Destiny
by WastelandRose
Summary: Serenity's children choose their paths. The 'verse will never be the same. A sequel to 'Take Me Where I Cannot Stand,' which you'll be pretty lost if you don't read first.
1. Rapture

Part 1 - Rapture

Malcolm Reynolds upset a delicate balance when he retired as captain. He knew what his leaving would do but he was sixty-one-years-old and just wanted someplace warm and solid on which to enjoy the rest of his days. He was too damn old to be zippin' about the 'verse anymore, gorramit, and ever since Jayne and River settled down on Haven with their twins, since the doc and Kaylee took that long vacation to the core to settle the Tam estate after the death of the doc's parents and Inara took to visiting old Companionin' friends at the same time, nothing had been the same. Mal was alone on _Serenity_ with all the kids for nearly two months. It was a damn terrifyin' experience and made him realize how useless he'd become.

He could barely keep up with the kids, his host of old injuries always aching and making him painfully aware of every gun shot and stab wound he'd ever received. Sam, Jay, and Mac were all strong, vital young men and could have new cargo sorted, stored, and secured before he'd even managed to slowly bend his stiff back to pick up one ruttin' box.

Louisa's piloting was legendary, but that didn't mean it wasn't nauseating; she sent him heaving for the bowl three times in less than five minutes on one memorable occasion. Baby Washburne, her and Mac's two-year-old boy, had been sitting on the pilot's lap, happily laughing and clapping his pudgy hands. Everyone in that whole damn family turned out nuttier than squirrel turd.

Speakin' of irritating families, the Tam girls were largely responsible for his frequent headaches and ulcers.

Jessie and Angie were quick and talented as their mama when it came to the engine, but they were less skilled (or maybe it was just that he was gettin' dense in his old age) at translating into Captain-Dummy Speak. Jessie was also just turned twenty and gettin' real _friendly _with the menfolk on the worlds they visited during their Supply Corps runs; Mal was sick a' findin' her half-naked all over his ship and 'specially sick a' her givin' him the cold shoulder every time he shot at the whole-naked fellas he found her with. Angie was nineteen and sensitive; seemed like something--most often Jay's big mouth--was always upsettin' her. Mal had never been good at dealin' with tears and never knew how to react to suddenly bein' hit with an armful of blubbery strawberry blonde. He tended to usually make the situation a whole lot worse.

Rosie was like a saner, more innocent version of River, quirky and dreamy and introverted and geniusy. When she started in on talk about physics or ethics or morality or spirituality or some fantastical story she thought up out of the blue, well, it was all Mal could do just to try to stay awake.

Ginny, dark-haired and brilliant like her father, was just fifteen but already perfectly at home up to her elbows in other people's guts. Mal was gettin' kinda disturbed by the way she stared at him over the dinner table, like she was dissecting him with her clinical blue eyes and waiting patiently for him to die so she could have a real live (or not so live) cadaver to play with.

So, ya, retiring to Haven was probably his best bet. Inara was on board for the idea, and Simon and Kaylee were considering coming along as well. Rosie and Ginny were all set to be off to the core for some proper schoolin' soon, and their two elder sisters were more than enough mechanic for the boat to get by with. The rest... well, the rest were the gorram problem.

"Which one of us is captain when you leave?" Jay demanded hotly as he, Sam, and Louisa all cornered Mal in the mess.

The old browncoat froze, a long string of protein noodles hanging dumbly out of his wrinkled mouth as he grunted, "Huh?"

"I ain't takin' orders off either one a' your brats!!" Lou shouted, her voice sounding so much like Zoe's even while her bronze face echoed the father she never knew, "I changed their shitty diapers, Uncle Mal!! I was there when they were ruttin' _circumcised_!! It just ain't right!!"

"Hey now!" The soon-to-be-ex-captain interrupted, desperately trying to keep the situation from spinning out of his control, "Just wait one gorram second-"

"I'm the senior officer!!" Louie raged, powerful fists clenched tightly at her sides as she stomped her foot in frustration, a gesture of surprising immaturity from one usually so collected.

"So what?" Jay fired back, his mama's dark eyes spitting fire as he tossed light brown curls away from his wide, suntanned forehead, "We ain't your soldiers, _Lieutenant_!! Boat should go to me or Sam 'cuz our dad's the captain!! It's the law!! There's a gorram name for it!! Sammy, what's the name for it?"

Remaining passive in the face of the rage of his twin and surrogate-sister, Solomon Derrial "Sam" Reynolds coolly responded, "Think the word you're looking for is _nepotism_, Jamie."

James Quinn gave an emphatic nod, slinging a long arm around his slightly older, slightly shorter brother's shoulders as he proclaimed, "YA! Nepotism! The Law of Nepotism says one of us should be captain!"

"_Chou-bi_!!" Lou answered, oblivious to baby Washburne wandering into the room and slapping his hands over his big ole dumbo ears when he heard his mama curse; Louisa claimed that trainin' him to do that was a lot easier than trainin' herself to stop cursin' in front of him. "Nepotism ain't no law!!" The statuesque, near-Amazonian woman yelled, "And it's supposed to be a _bad_ thing!! It means promotin' your own kin over folks who're more qualified to do the job!! And I am sure as _hell_ more qualified to run this boat than the both a' you put together!!"

"How do you figure?" Jay mocked boldly. Mal could tell from just the tone in his voice, the cocky way his twenty-two-year-old son was standing that the boy was about to say something very stupid; he recognized the impending disaster from his own experiences gettin' into 'em. "Just 'cuz you served in the war don't make you any better than us!" The young man declared, stepping up so that he was eye-to-eye with the twenty-eight-year-old retired Air Force First Lieutenant, "'Sides, you got shot down and captured! How the hell is that an endorsement for puttin' you in charge-"

Unsurpringly, Louisa hauled off and punched him right in his big fat mouth before he could even finish the sentence. The force of the blow sent Jay flying backwards a good ten feet; Mal was amused to find that his boy had been knocked clean outta his boots. Just like her mama, Lou had a _mean_ right hook.

"_Yinmao_!!" Louie shrieked as she launched herself at the dazed and only half-conscious Reynolds twin, proceeding to viciously beat the hell outta him, "_Ni tzao sma_? _Ni-yow wuh-kai chang_? _Jiao ni sheng haizi mei pigu yan_!!" Zoe's baby always had had a mouth on her, and she'd been sensitive about what went on during the Second Unification War ever since she'd served with distinction and honor and contributed greatly to an Independent victory. She certainly wasn't shy about her physical violence and Mal knew that the only reason Jay wasn't riddled with bullet holes was 'cuz he was her _di-di_; even that probably wouldn't save him for long seein' how she'd shot at her own husband for far less.

"ENOUGH, LOUIE!!" Malcolm Reynolds shouted at the top of his lungs. Elderly but still a figure of authority, he was instantly obeyed. Louisa got off Jay, kicking him hard in the ribs one last time before screaming "_Gouzazhong_!!" and stomping out of the mess.

Standing over his bleeding and groaning son, Mal gave a light chuckle. Jay glared, his eyes blackened and his teeth stained red from the blood leaking out of his crushed nose as he slurred, "You coulda jumped in sooner! Didn't hafta let her beat me so bad!"

"'Course I did," The gray-haired captain argued, giving his headstrong boy a hand to his feet, "Had all that and more comin' to ya. Louie is a gorram _war hero_ and you ruttin' well know it. You got no right talkin' to her like that, 'specially not when you also know how upset she gets."

Jay continued to glare, lookin' pretty foolish with his left thumb and index finger shoved halfway up each of his swollen nostrils in an effort to stem the profuse blood flow. Not responding to his father's accusations, he turned and stomped off in the opposite direction Louisa went, whining, "GINNY!!! LOU BROKE MY NOSE!!" Ginger Marie Tam was filling in as the ship's medic in her father's absence and she was doing a very fine job of it. The brilliant brunette was scheduled to leave for an early acceptance MedAcad program shortly after she turned sixteen and the core wasn't gonna know what hit 'em.

Alone in the mess with the still stone-faced Sam and the still earmuffed baby Washburne, Mal gave a long sigh. He sat back down with his bowl of half-eaten noodles, motioned Louisa's boy over, pulled the toddler into his lap, and got comfortable before going back to his meal.

"Dad," Sam stated quietly, lookin' all manner a' serious as he took a seat on the other side of the table, "You gotta settle this before you can leave. Lou's not gonna take orders from me or Jay, and me and Jay won't take orders from her or from each other. The boat still needs a captain."

"I know," Mal responded, entertained by watching baby Washburne grabbing handfuls of noodles out of his bowl. The two-year-old was a miniature copy of his father, with the same strong square jaw and "ruttin' ridiculous blonde curls," as Louisa fondly referred to them. He had his mama's soft blue eyes though, the eyes she got from her own daddy. "I'll think a' something," The man assured, smiling into Sam's stony face, "Now why don't you go see to your brother? Try to get him to keep that big mouth a' his shut?"

Sam smirked, his mama's dark hair falling across his forehead and into his icy blue eyes as he stood and answered, "Ya. Like _that's_ ever gonna happen."

Nobody but Mac and baby Washburne voluntarily interacted with Louisa during the following week. She made Angie cry twice (on accident), pulled her weapon on Jay no less than a dozen times (all definitely on purpose), and once on Uncle Mal when he threatened to take the ruttin' thing away from her. She was not a happy lieutenant.

Louie loved her family; that wasn't the problem. The problem was that she was a born leader and had an independent streak a mile long. She'd been a sergeant during the war, flight chief of the legendary 92nd Airborne Attack Squadron, the Lean, Mean, Serene as they were called. Taking orders off Uncle Mal was one thing, he was Uncle Mal, but taking 'em off Sam or Jay... well, that was an entirely different matter. No way in hell Lou was gonna tolerate having those brats put in charge of her. No, sir.

When she finally set the boat down on Hera, the pilot was, as Rosie bluntly put it, "growlier than Uncle Jayne when he hasn't been sexed in a month." The captain issue was bugging her, but that was only part of it. Hera was the site of Serenity Valley; it was the planet she'd been shot down on during the war, the one where she'd been imprisoned and beaten and raped in the Alliance camp at Lazarus. The place crawlin' with bad memories.

She wouldn't have even got off _Serenity_ if it hadn't been for Jessie and Angie. The pair of stand-in mechanics begged her to accompany them on a trip to a local junkyard in search of parts. Louisa would have said no, except that they both went and got all misty-eyed on her, sayin' that they didn't know the world too well and would feel a lot safer with their _shiong-tsan jie-jie_ along to protect them. Ruttin' Tam girls and their misty eyes...

It was hot. Hera was a desert planet, with sweltering days and freezing cold nights that Louisa remembered all too vividly. She was in a real foul mood, sweating inside her heavy second-hand brown coat as she followed Jessie and Angie through the heaps and heaps of scrap. Their chattering was starting to give her a throbbing ache right between her eyes and carrying baby Washburne was making her arm tired and her old injuries throb.

She didn't want to put him down though. Her precious _er-zi_ could get hurt wandering around all of that sharp, rusted metal, and holding him close, burying her face against his unnaturally soft curls was helping Louisa to keep calm, keep her waking nightmares at bay. She sort of wished she would have just swallowed her pride and asked Mac to come hold her hand...

But suddenly she heard, "HEY!! YOU!!" The loud voice had her bristling and defensive before she'd even turned to see where it had come from; that part didn't matter so much seein' as she could hear two sets of frantic footsteps and heavy breathing comin' her way.

Jessie and Angie were far enough away to be safe for the moment, but Lou quickly set baby Washburne down on the ground. "Go hide," She stated simply, the toddler dutifully nodding his big ole melon of a head, popping his thumb into his mouth as he took off for cover just like he'd been taught. Made Louie pretty gorram proud a' his smarts.

But there was no time to dwell. Hand on the butt of the pistol always strapped to her hip, Lou turned around and, like always, was fully prepared to shoot somebody if she needed to.

Only she turned and instead of finding a threat, she found a dopey-lookin' pair of redheads who could only have been a father and son. The younger man was far in the lead, arm waving up over his head and his heavily freckled face split by an excited grin. The old man was puffing along a ways behind him.

"Heya, Sarge!" The younger man shouted as he arrived right in front of Lou. Seeming to suddenly remember himself, he quickly snapped into a full-proper military salute--it still looked strange with him still grinnin' like he was--and reported, "Private Triller, Ma'am! Hundred-Thirty-First Mobile Infantry Brigade! It is an honor to see you again!"

"I know you?" Lou inquired suspiciously, giving him a quick, calculating once over as she slid the safety of her gun back on.

That's when she noticed it: the long, jagged scar on the left side of his face. It started at the back of his big jaw and shot straight up into his on-end ginger hair. Even though she couldn't see, Lou instantly knew that the scar didn't stop until nearly the top of his right ear.

"You were in Lazarus," Louisa blurted out, growing pale and physically ill because she absolutely _did_ remember this soldier. She'd come across him in one of the cells as she'd been limping through the camp unlocking them all. At the time, she hadn't even been able to tell he had red hair. His head was cracked wide open, a gaping piece of skull missing to expose the bloody, shredded pulp that was left of his brains. She'd been amazed when she discovered that the unfortunate boy was even still alive and sure he wouldn't stay that way long. She'd later heard from the medics who were airlifting her and him off of the world that Private Triller had had an Alliance cruiser clip his head as it was crashing. A body just didn't live through that sort of trauma. With the amount of suffering it would involve, maybe they just weren't supposed to.

Louisa was sure he'd died, but there he was.

"Yup!" The man reported brightly, seeming so very young. He was barely eighteen when she met him, a totally green recruit, so he could've only been about twenty-five on that day. "I was in Lazarus," The young man continued as his father finally arrived all out of breath, "And I remember you! You're Sarge Washburne! You saved us all!"

Louisa hated that she could feel her face get hot. "Just did what had to be done," She claimed quietly. After a momentary pause, she added, "I didn't think you'd made it, Private. Last I saw, most of your head was MIA."

Private Triller laughed, giving the side of his cranium a sharp rap. It echoed like the hull of a ship would under the same treatment. "Got a plate in there," He reported proudly, "Nearly a square foot a' steel and a few dozen bolts. It's a real wonder I don't pick up no cortex signals with it."

Lou smirked in that uncomfortable way a person does when something's funny that ought not to be.

"Doc's on Greenleaf fixed me up real fine!" Private Triller continued to babble, "They said it was a miracle I even lived! I been home since the war, helpin' my Pa run the junkyard. Got married a few years ago and just had a baby girl with my wife not quite three months ago. We named her after you, Sarge."

"What in the ruttin' hell for?" Louie gaped before she could stop herself, only vaguely aware of her mouth hanging open dumbly.

Private Triller looked slightly confused, answering, "'Cuz you saved me, Sarge. You saved all that was left of my entire brigade and scores of others. Most men in this town were enlisted and locked up at Lazarus and you saved 'em all. Ain't nothin' in any of our lives would've been possible without you."

Louisa's face turned a lot redder.

"OH!" Private Triller suddenly cried out, seeming to get distracted from the conversation by his bolt of inspiration as he slapped his hand to his forehead with a dull metallic ring, "I got somethin' for ya back home! Wait right here and I'll run get it!" He was off like a shot, goofy and awkward and odd as all get out.

His father was left, another redhead with a funny-lookin' face, though a much calmer demeanor. He had wrinkles around the corners of his eyes and silver around his temples. His smile was warm as he offered his hand out to Louisa. "Thank you, Ma'am," He said, serious and heartfelt reverence in his voice and kind brown eyes, "I know Joshua'd pro'ly be dead now if it hadn't been for what you did. My family owes you a great debt."

"That ain't necessary," Louisa claimed, uncomfortable at the praise, dropping the old man's hand as she turned around in search of baby Washburne. She caught a flash of his gold curls peeking 'round the corner of an open hatch door. The boy disappeared quickly when he saw his mama glance his way, not wanting to get scolded for not staying well enough hid.

Louisa tried not to smirk as she went after him, calling, "It's ok to come out, baby."

"Not a baby," The toddler vehemently insisted as his sweet little fawn freckled face appeared scowling in the doorway.

Smiling, Louie soothed, "'Course not. I'm sorry, Burne. I forgot how big you'd gotten."

The boy gave an emphatic nod before running right into his mama's waiting arms. Snuggling comfortably against her side, he rested his head on Lou's strong shoulder as he pointed towards the junked-out remains of the craft he'd been hiding in and inquired curiously, "What's that one called, Mama?"

Eager to educate her son about ships, Louie expertly looked over the mangled wreck before reporting delightedly, "Why, that's a 02-M18 Seraph class long-range fighter!" She took a step back to admire the three pairs of angel wing gun turrets bolted seamlessly on either side of the graceful round cockpit, as well as the radiation halo set into the back engine bay that was supposed to be quite a sight when it was glowin' white hot.

"Haven't ever come across one a' these for real," The pilot remarked to the old man, practically salivating and already half in love with the boat, "Just in books... she's gorgeous."

"Ya," The old man agreed wisely, pleased that someone else could appreciate the craft, "She's a relic from the first war. Dragged her in outta one a' the far gulleys a ways back. Been here over thirty years but nobody ever gives her a second glance and I can't bring myself to crush her."

Lou nodded, "Some folks can't see past the need for a new coat a' paint and some hard work... think she'll still fly?"

"P'rhaps," The old man mused, "But you'd have to have one helluva mechanic to get her up in the sky again."

Lou grinned broadly and excitedly squeezed baby Washburne just a little tighter, commenting, "Good thing I know two who happen to be nearby."

Jessie and Angie were pretty far into a squabble over whether or not they would need to patch or replace the cracked left-side cooling block of the old Seraph when Private Triller finally came back. He had a big hunk of flat metal in one hand and was dragging a pretty brunette woman who was holding a pretty cinnamon-haired baby with the other. What Louisa suspected to be half the ruttin' town was following along behind him.

"Hey, Sarge!" Triller called, waving the warped metal panel up over his cracked head, "I found it!"

"Great," Lou muttered nervously; she didn't like being the center of attention like she obviously was just then.

But the redhead didn't seem to notice her squirming, proudly presenting the woman and girl as he chirped, "I'd like you to meet my wife, Vivi-Anna, and baby Louisa Suzanna Triller."

Willing the redness out of her face yet again, Lou gave a stoic nod of greeting, gripping her son to her like a lifeline as she responded, "Nice to meet ya'll. This is my boy, Washburne, and those two lovely redheads back there are my sisters, Jessie and Angie."

"HI!!" Sunshine and Strawberries Tam chirped together, their argument and task apparently forgotten as they came running up to the crowd of new folks. Jessie was already makin' eyes at three or four handsome young men all at once, Angie shyly blushing at the similar looks comin' her way.

"I hope you'll stay for dinner," Vivi-Anna offered kindly, brown eyes huge and glassy as she stared up at Louisa like she was an angel herself. The petite woman gave a watery smile before adding, "We'd be real honored."

"'Course we'll stay!" Jessie sang out happily, completely interrupting Lou as she'd been about to politely decline, "That's so kind a' ya!"

"We just gotta let the rest of our crew know where we are," Angie added, smiling softly, putting a comforting hand on Louisa's shoulder when she saw how uncomfortable her big sister was getting.

Vivi-Anna beamed, hugging her baby as she stated, "You tell 'em to come on down, too. Any friends of Sarge Washburne's are friends of ours."

Private Triller gave a bright nod, grinning proudly. After just a moment, he went a slapped himself on the forehead again, the metallic ring echoing through the air again as he stated, "I plumb forgot. Here, Sarge. I got this for ya."

He held out the sheet of metal, smilin' that stupid smile a' his until Lou seized the scrap from him just to get him to stop pointin' the ruttin' thing at her. The metal was thick, heavy steel. She turned it over and her breath caught in her throat.

Louisa's boat during the war was a 01-B25 Widow class stealth bomber. Lou named him _Dino_ and loved him with all her heart. When she got shot down on Hera, _Dino_ and all the crew, the mechanic and two gunners, Scotty, Paloma, and Jun-Chen, were killed. Except for Louisa. Louisa got to watch them die, pull a huge chunk of shrapnel out of her own leg, and then leave them all behind to limp off in the direction of the gunfire.

She'd thought she'd lost them all, that she'd never see a single one ever again.

And then Private Triller handed her the hand-painted nameplate off her boat, the last little salvageable bit of him in the whole 'verse.

"DINO" it said in bold, bright green letters that could be read from a few dozen yards off. Even if they couldn't, the picture of the ferocious t-rex right under it was a dead giveaway. Lou painted the sign herself just after she was commissioned the elegant little bomber, for the first time in her life appreciating the usefulness of Aunt River's art lessons.

Staring at it then in the junkyard, having a piece of _Dino_ back after all those years... it felt like a dream, felt like she was about to get pulled under by the rush of memories, both good and bad, long days laughing with a good group of friends and getting tore to shreds as she fought her way out of a red hot coffin of collapsing metal familiar body parts. She didn't know what to say, couldn't make anything come out her mouth, was only vaguely aware of the whole crowd of townfolk gettin' real quite as they waited and waited for her to react.

"DINOSAUR!!" Baby Washburne called out, squirming excitedly in his mama's embrace and grounding her firmly in the present as he reached his pudgy little hands out for the picture of one of his favorite creatures.

That got Lou to smiling, to kissing her boy's cheek as she held the piece of metal closer to him and agreed, "Ya! Dinosaur! This is the dinosaur off mama's plane!" Heart bursting as she watched baby Washburne cooing over the picture, Louie turned back to Private Triller and sincerely stated, "Thank you."

Dinner with the Triller's turned out to be a far quieter affair than Louisa originally feared. Vivi-Anna was a wonderful cook, Mac, Uncle Mal, and Double-Trouble weren't _too_ embarrassing, and baby Washburne was absolutely fascinated with baby Louisa.

Aside from the fact that he kept curiously asking why she had his mama's name, the boy just loved fussing at how little she was, making her laugh with funny faces, and babbling on and on to her about dinosaurs and spaceships even though all the adults said she couldn't understand him quite yet. After dessert, he climbed into his daddy's lap and politely requested a little sister of his own.

Mac cracked the hell up, breathlessly responding, "I'll be sure 'n do my part to make that happen someday, little man!"

In the midst of Private Triller delighting everyone with his story of survival, Louisa grabbed Mac's hand. She sent him a _Look_ and quietly dragged him out of the house completely unnoticed by the rest of their party.

"You ok, wifey?" The merc inquired lovingly, wrapping his arms around his beautiful warrior woman without a care as to where she was leading him.

"Fine, husband," Lou responded softly, leaning into the embrace as she steered them carefully through the moonlit scrapyard, "Just got somethin' to show ya."

They walked along in a comfortable silence for a bit and then before either of 'em knew it, they were standing before the dark, looming shape of a junked ship. Mac could see the longing in his wife's beautiful blue eyes, tenderly kissing her temple as he asked, "What'm I lookin' at?"

Snapping herself out of an uncharacteristic daydream, Lou gave his hand a firm squeeze and pulled him inside the open hatch door as she answered, "This is a 02-M18 Seraph class long-range fighter."

"Shiny," Mac remarked skeptically, trying very hard not to shriek in an unmanly fashion when some kinda small rodent skittered across his foot.

"She was an Independent boat," Lou stated enthusiastically, "They were only manufactured briefly during the first war. The factories that made 'em were owned by a few high-ranking Independent officers and instigators so they got seized and demolished by Blue Sun after the takeover. Thanks to most of the few that were made gettin' shot down in combat, there ain't a lot of 'em left."

She paused briefly, pulling Mac up a rickety set of stairs at the far end of the bay, reverently running her fingers over the once-sleek metal railings as she continued, "This class is what Uncle Mal means when he talks about the angels. They were designed to support small crews on long interplanetary missions, with docking capabilities to larger carriers. Got three bunks, a galley, a living room, two bathrooms with showers, and, my personal favorite, six outside gun turrets and a pretty decent-sized missile payload bay, which was what we just walked through."

"That's nice, sweet pea," Mac responded, not really understanding why Louie was so fascinated, well, other than that she was brainy and loved spaceships. He was just about to ask her why she was showing him all this when they suddenly arrived in a round, spacious bridge.

The paneled bubble windshield was huge, taking up most of the front wall, and the cockpit was high enough off the ground so that they were able to look out over all the junk to a gorgeous view of the stars and moons all glowing deep against the craggy horizon.

"Whoa," Mac stated, clearly impressed. He'd never seen a boat with such an open bridge design and it was definitely real pretty. Just imagining what the Black would look like from the spot he was standing, like a person was standing out in the middle of nothing, was mind-blowing. Before he could say that, Lou pushed him backwards down into the pilot's chair and straddled his lap. When she started kissin' his neck and grindin' herself against him, Mac completely forgot about the beautiful view outside; he had all the beautiful view he would ever need right there with him.

"Jesus, Louie," The merc groaned, unsure if he meant it to be a swear or a prayer to the goddess hovering over him as he felt her hot flesh beneath his suddenly clumsy hands. He did worship the fiery pilot, had since almost the first time she shot him down, but there were also times, a lot a' ruttin' times, when she confused the hell outta him. Right then was one a' those times... not that he was complainin' about bein' dragged into a junked out ship and attacked sexually. No, sir.

"So?" She asked expectantly as her nimble, very talented fingers made short work of the big black buttons down the front of his green and maroon tie-dyed shirt.

As was always Louisa's effect on him, he barely had the presence of mind to grunt, "Huh?"

Mac could've sworn he saw the gorram woman smirk in the dark before she bent down to nip at his earlobe, to respond in that low, raspy whisper she knew damn well turned him into a helpless puddle a' goo. "The boat," She stated very slowly, explicitly, enunciating ever syllable perfectly as her graceful fingers skimmed downwards to unbuckle his gunbelt, "What do you think of the boat?"

"You expect me to think while you're doin' that?" He groaned, utterly mindless as her body pressed tight against his, lost in the heady scent and intense heat wrapping around him like an incredibly sexy blanket.

Slowing her movements, the pilot pulled away slightly and teased, "Should I stop then, husband?"

"NO!" Mac cried out, wishing his voice wouldn't have cracked so loudly and shrilly as he grabbed her and yanked her back against his broad, solid chest. Their lips met hard. Mac loved Louisa's lips; they were soft and full and looked so incredibly beautiful twisted into that gorgeous, laughing smile. His hands scrambled to divest her of as much clothing as he could, as quickly as possible. "Boat's shiny," He joked, his voice still a bit strained as he mouthed the words against one perfectly sculpted collarbone, "I particularly enjoy its gettin'-the-wife-to-sex-me feature."

"I was hopin' you'd say that," Louie teased breathlessly, leaning into Mac as he drew his mouth down her long, slender sternum, as he tossed her shirt over his shoulder and trapped her backside in his big hands, lest she try escapin' again, "'Cuz Pop Triller offered her to us for a steal."

It took a few moments for the statement to penetrate his lust-addled mind but, when it did, the merc briefly halted his movements, looking up at her as he dumbly grunted, "Huh?"

"She's ours if we want her," Lou answered, smiling, a hopeful, excited gleam in her soft blue eyes as she toyed with the blonde curls brushing the back of his neck, "Thought I'd get your input."

"You want the boat," Mac announced bluntly, hands beginning to move over his wife's body of their own free will, "And you're actually _askin_' _me_ 'fore you buy her?"

Throwing her head back with laughter, the pilot responded, "Figured puttin' a ring on my finger warrants you gettin' a vote in these types a' matters. Though I really don't know why I'm botherin'. Burne loves her, too, so you're already outnumbered."

Mac smirked, staring up at his warrior woman's slightly apprehensive face with the knowledge that, no matter what she said, she really did value his opinion. It meant a lot coming from the most stubborn, fiercely independent person he'd ever known. "Can we really afford this?" He asked quietly.

"Not payin' for the parts or labor to fix her, ya," Lou stated happily, otherworldly silhouette backlit by the bright moons and stars outside, "The Triller's say they ain't takin' a cent off us for parts and I had to strongarm Pop just to make him to take payment for the boat herself. Jessie and Angie are so excited about gettin' a new toy they're gonna work practically for free."

"W-What about _Serenity_?" Mac questioned, his eyes nearly rolling back into his skull as Louisa started moving again, started grinding down on him in that ruttin' _perfect_ way he took as yet more proof that they were destined for only each other.

Surrendering into utter bliss as her dreams began looking like realities, as the ecstasy began to carry her away, Retired United Republic of Independent Worlds Air Force First Lieutenant Louisa Agnes Serenity Washburne-Machado bent to capture her husbands thick, slightly-chapped lips, whispering against them, "She'll understand."

Uncle Mal flipped a lid when Louisa announced her decision later that night. He went all red and blustery as he bellowed, "Threatenin' to leave ain't gonna make me put you in charge a' the ship!"

"Ain't a threat," Lou responded coolly, "It's the plan. 'Sides, we ain't leavin'. Not really. More like movin' in next door."

"Huh?" the old captain grunted in confusion.

Louie smirked, elaborating, "Jay totaled the spare shuttle last year and you never got 'round to findin' a replacement. Jessie and Angie say they can modify the Seraph's port-side carrier-docking hatch to fit with _Serenity_."

"But..." Mal gaped, "But... why?"

"I know you wanna give _Serenity_ to the twins," The young pilot answered calmly, a hint of a smile in her voice, "As young, inexperienced, and ruttin' dumb they are, they're still your blood. That's alright. I'm just not gonna trust my family to 'em, least not 'til they understand that bein' a leader ain't just about bossin' folks around."

By the end of the explanation, Uncle Mal had a deep, contemplative frown on his wrinkled face. Lou made some good points, and he really couldn't make her do anything she didn't want. She was grown, after all, and did have her own family to consider. She had to do what was best for them and if she believed that not putting them in the care of Sam and Jay Reynolds was best, well, then that was her choice.

"'Sides," She added, an impish smirk twisting her features, making her look so much like Wash that it was almost scary, "The Seraph's got guns and you say no every time I ask to strap some to _Serenity_."

Suddenly, Mal couldn't stop laughing. Louisa might've had Wash's face, but she had so much of her mama in her that it was... well, pretty _damn_ scary but also just a tiny bit comforting. Felt nice to think that Zoe, the best and most loyal friend he ever had, lived on through her baby girl even years after she'd passed.

"Alright," Mal finally chuckled, "Two things and then we're shiny."

"Shoot," Lou chirped happily.

The old man held out a gnarled finger, listing seriously, "First, you gotta teach both Sam and Jay to pilot _Serenity_ without crashin' her."

Snorting, the woman rolled her eyes, "Well, I'll try, but I can hardly be held responsible if Jay decides it's a good idea to fly with some farm girl suckin' his _xiao di-di_ again."

Mal's eyes bugged out of his head; he choked violently on his own spit before shouting, "_THAT'S_ how he crashed the shuttle? He told me the engine failed!! _Bu-yao-lian hwoon dahn_!! I am gonna kill that gorram boy!!"

With a mischievous smirk, Louie prompted, "He's all yours. Now, what's second?"

After taking a brief moment to collect himself from the shock he'd just suffered, the old browncoat grumbled, "Second is that you look out for everyone. You're the oldest and the only one really knows firsthand how to handle the worst trouble. I want Sam and Jay to learn how to run things on their own, together, but not if it puts them or the girls in danger, so you take over if it ever gets to that point, _dong ma_?"

"Done," Lou agreed with a broad grin, jumping down off the counter in the Triller's kitchen, "Now, if you'll excuse me, the husband and I are gonna go think of names for our new boat."

Forever coveting the first night they spent together in the brilliant, moonlit cockpit, Mac and Louisa settled on _Rapture_.

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Translations -

chou-bi - stinking cunt

yinmao - pubic hair

ni tzao sma? ni-yow wuh-kai chang? - you want a bullet? you want a bullet right through your throat?

jiao ni sheng haizi mei pigu yan - may your child be born with an imperforate anus

di-di - younger brother

gouzazhong - mongrel dog

shiong-tsan jie-jie - ass-kicking older sister

er-zi - son

xiao di-di - cock (lit. little younger brother)

bu-yao-lian hwoon dahn - shameless son of a bitch

dong ma - understand

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Author's notes -

Seraph - (plural: Seraphim) a member of the highest order or angels, often represented as a child's head with three pairs of wings; one of the celestial beings hovering above God's throne in Isiah's vision.

Rapture - the state of being transported by a lofty emotion; ecstasy; an expression of ecstasy or passion; the transporting of a person from one place to another, especially to heaven; the state of being carried away by an overwhelming emotion; a state of elated bliss.


	2. Radiance

Part 2 - Radiance

Jessamine Lee Tam was a simple girl. She loved her family--the whole quirky, violent, loud-mouthed lot of 'em--and she loved spaceships--_Serenity_ especially, the only place in the 'verse that ever really felt like home. She loved meeting new folks, loved making friends and hearing stories--she had quite a few of her own to share with anyone who'd listen. Mostly, though, Jessie just loved being happy and seeing everyone around her be happy as well. She hadn't had an indulgent childhood, but there had always love and that was plenty for the vibrant redhead. She felt richer and more privileged than the most spoiled core brat.

She'd been told over and over again throughout her entire life that she had her mama's smile, bright and beautiful and handed out like candy. Louie joked that Jessie could probably light all of the Black with it; Jay always insisted her grin was big and dopey but he did it with a smirk and playful hair ruffle so she knew her _ge-ge_ was just teasing. Mac, Louie's husband, liked to call her Sunshine.

She hadn't smiled in months, not for real. It just wasn't in her anymore, and especially not just then, when she found herself in _Serenity_'s infirmary, screaming and crying loud enough to be heard all throughout the entire ship as her body was seized by a type of pain she had never before experienced. It was so intense, so overwhelming and she just couldn't handle it anymore.

She wasn't strong like Louisa, her courageous, war-hero _jie-jie_ standing beside her, holding her hand and mopping the sweat off her pale forehead and whispering that it was gonna be alright, that she'd get through just fine. Jessie didn't believe Lou, continuing to cry out in pain and fear and heartbreak. "I-I can't do it, Louie!" The woman sobbed, barely twenty-two and not ready for what she knew was coming, "I can't! This ain't fair! I'm too young! I can't do it by myself!"

"And you ain't gonna have to," Louisa scolded firmly, stoically squeezing back on the death-grip Jessie had on her hand, pressing their foreheads together and gazing down at her with those soft blue eyes that made her look not quite as harsh as she seemed on first glance. "You're strong," Lou proclaimed, like the retired Air Force First Lieutenant was ordering it into being fact and just daring a single soul to argue with her, "You got us, _mei-mei_. We're here and we ain't goin' nowhere. No matter what, you _always_ got us."

Jessie sniffled dizzily, trying to ignore Sam and Jay arguing with Ginny over the cortex screen as her dark-haired baby sister tried to give the Reynolds twins the directions they hadn't been able to reach her daddy for. He was a doctor, retired on Haven with their mama. Ginny was in MedAcad on Osiris though. At just seventeen, she was the youngest student to pass through since Simon Tam himself attended; she was more than capable of taking care of this but she was also worlds and worlds away, had been for nearly a year. Jessie started crying anew when she thought about how much she missed her two youngest sisters.

Rosie was at school, too, at the most prestigious university on Sihnon. The dreamiest Tam was nineteen and a genius. She was studying literature, latin, physics, philosophy, political science, and mathematics all at once. She was expected to graduate in less than a year and was already in the process of getting her first novel published.

Angie was the only one there on the boat with her, but the twenty-one-year-old wasn't much help. The strawberry blonde was standing near Jessie's feet, looking rather pale and dazed; her fellow mechanic couldn't stand the sight of blood or other person's pain, 'specially not the pain of someone as close as one of her sisters. Jessie didn't fault Angie for it; weren't much she could do or say to make the situation any better anyhow. Everything was goin' to shit.

It all started about two years ago.

Gabriel and Regan Tam died within a month of each other; they left the entirety of their vast fortune to be split equally between their seven grandchildren, even though they had never met a single one of 'em. J.J. and Alleyne were only eight at the time so Aunt River had their shares put away with the instruction that the money would be used only for education or in a dire emergency; Uncle Jayne wasn't so happy about that but she gave him one of those "kill you with my brain" looks and the old man shut up right quick.

Jessie's daddy set up similar trusts for his daughters; Rosie and Ginny were using theirs to pay for school so their parents didn't have to. Jessie and Angie were content to merely live off what they'd been given; the security of not having to live hand-to-mouth like they did in the days before the war when they were still doing crime just to get by was real nice; it gave her the freedom to do what she loved: being a mechanic, being with her family, being on _Serenity_. She didn't want much more out of life.

That was until one of her daddy's cousins approached him while he was on his trip to the core to settle the paperwork and invited their family to a ball. Daddy had always spoken fondly of Tetsu, now a fabulously wealthy, childless widow in her early fifties, and had been delighted at the thought of reconnecting with the family he'd left behind when he chose Aunt River over all the rest of 'em. He was still having a bit of trouble with the fact that his parents had died without him ever getting answers, apologies, or reconciliation.

He told his daughters that it was up to them if they wanted to attend the ball, that he wouldn't force them to go if they felt uncomfortable in any way. 'Course, they all jumped at the chance, even no-nonsense Ginny; she'd been eager to get introduced to some core ways and possibly meet some of the students she'd be attending MedAcad with in a few months when she turned sixteen.

They left Louisa, Mac, and baby Washburne on Hera with their newly acquired Seraph fighter. They were calling her _Rapture_ and had quite a bit of work to do before she'd be space-worthy again. Without the mechanical expertise of Jessie, Angie, and their mama, Lou said she was just gonna be doing body work until they all returned to help her rebuild the engine.

Mac pouted, the blonde merc grumbling about having been looking forward to seeing his gorgeous wife in something slinky. Louie smiled in that adoringly bemused way she did only around him, patting his hip as she soothed, "Get my boat fixed, husband, and you might just earn yourself a private slink-fest." He brightened up real quick and Jessie snickered pretty hard into her hand.

She loved watching them together, just like she loved watching her mama and her daddy, Aunt River and Uncle Jayne, Aunt Inara and Uncle Mal. She loved watching couples she knew were truly in love and hoped to one day have that kind of love all for her ownself. Jessie had always believed in true love, in romance and its power to make the whole world brighter.

Soon, _Serenity_ was touching down on Osiris, her daddy's home world. He and Mama and Aunt Inara met them at the docks with Cousin Tetsu. The woman seemed friendly, if a bit closed off, especially in comparison to bubbly Kaylee, who bounced all over her daughters and adoptive nephews and favorite captain in the 'verse.

Tetsu Charlemagne was very well-dressed in rich silks and satins; she had a build like Aunt River's--small and delicate and waiflike--and long, perfectly-groomed hair that was a sleek cascade of deep gray iron falling down her thin back. Her face was pale and, after a life of expensive facials and mostly forced smiles, only sparingly lined with crow's feet at the corners of her cool gray eyes. After seeing a picture of her that Daddy sent back to Haven--since Aunt River had opted not to attend--Uncle Jayne commented that, based on the woman's color pallet, she looked to be carved entirely out of gunmetal.

Still, it was real nice to meet family; Jessie had her aunts and uncles and brothers and sisters from _Serenity_, as well as a few more distant relatives from her mama's side scattered out on a few rim worlds. She loved all of her family and had always been of the mind that it could never get big enough--despite what Captain Tight-Pants had to say about overpopulatin' the gorram boat. It was real nice to have at least one more person she could add to the ranks and had been excited about the prospect of meeting even more members of the Tam clan, if they'd ever quit sulking over the hand her aunt and daddy'd played in Miranda and the fall of the Alliance.

But they had a whole flurry of work to do to get ready for the ball that night. Jessie and her sisters had barely been on Osiris for ten minutes before they were whisked off to a real fancy dressmaker's studio and draped in some of the most heavenly, expensive fabrics they'd ever seen. Mama insisted that they all have their own dresses made special for 'em 'cuz the bubbly fifty-two-year-old mechanic had learned that, when attending core parties, what you wear ain't supposed to look like you bought it in a store. She wasn't gonna let her daughters make the same mistakes she had. No, sir.

Jessie giggled with Angie over the core boys trying to peek in the window as they watched fifteen-year-old Ginny getting fitted, their slim sister absolutely gorgeous in dark blue. She watched seventeen-year-old Rosie wandering through the shop with a speculative, far-off look in her sparkly brown eyes as she lightly ran her fingertips over the soft fabrics; she was especially fond of the purple silks. She watched Uncle Mal and the twins sulking off in a corner, moaning to her daddy about how gorram ridiculous the whole thing was, how they didn't take kindly to bein' dressed up like show dogs; Uncle Mal even grumbled something about how he better not get ruttin' stabbed this time. Mama and Aunt Inara were sipping tea and rolling their eyes at the men.

It was all worth it though. Every one of the Tam girls was breathtakingly beautiful by the time the dress lady, hair lady, and make-up lady was through with 'em. Jay's jaw literally hit the ground when they finally managed to talk Angie out of the dressing room in a curve-hugging little black number. Angie was a bit shyer than her big sister but no less gorgeous; she turned the younger Reynolds twin into an incoherent pile a' goo. Jessie filed that bit away for future matchmaking 'cuz wouldn't it be shiny if they got together?

Jessie's own dress was a deep green, clingy and low-cut enough to make her daddy blush and bluster; that was just how she liked it; she was a flirt and a charmer and certainly enjoyed all the pleasures life had to offer.

Sam teasingly complimented that she looked voluptuous, winking and offering out his arm; he was looking sharp in a neat black tux and was to be her escort for the evening. Angie got Jay, when he finally got around to pickin' his eyes up past her chest and mumblin' some nonsense about where the hell she'd been hidin' those...

The ball was the grandest party she ever attended; it was so rich and cultured and she probably would've felt out of place if she hadn't been blessed with her mama's outgoing, infectious personality. As it stood, they all blended in reasonably well. Thanks to Aunt River and Aunt Inara, all the _Serenity_ children could dance beautifully and had excellent manners.

Ginny, brave and confident almost to a fault, easily found friends in a group of people at her own intellect level. They happened to all be about three years older than her, but she'd always been way to smart for her own age group anyways.

Rosie wandered again, wide-eyed and off in her own world before eventually finding companionship with a trio of rowdy old women drinking and telling bawdy jokes off in a corner. They were new money, she'd heard whispers, and were looked at with general distaste. Rosie laughed so hard at their stories that she damn near ripped the seams of her long gown, the violet silk she'd insisted on clashing terribly with her flushed face and deep red hair but looking so... fitting on the dreamiest Tam.

Angie danced with Jay and she was even starting to relax before he went and put his foot in his big ole mouth. Instead of telling her she looked beautiful, which she did, the curly-haired youth commented that she was _actually pretty_ when she bothered to clean herself up. The girl had been close to tears before a good-looking core boy swooped in and asked her for a dance. She accepted, happy to throw a scathing glare over her shoulder at Jay as she'd been led away from the far more clueless half of the infamous Double-Trouble.

Jessie herself was having the time of her life. Sam only danced for a bit, but that was fine because he wanted to join his mama and daddy in talking to some potential business connections. And it's not like she had any shortage of company. No, sir.

She danced with nearly every bachelor in the place; when she got tired, they followed her to the buffet table and stood around laughing happily as she piled herself a plate full of real meat and the freshest fruits she'd ever seen. Jessamine Lee Tam was the belle of the ball, the gorgeous, radiant newcomer every man wanted for his own.

It just so happened she caught the attention of Casimir Hastin. He was twenty-five, with dark hair and skin and piercing, irresistible golden eyes. She'd heard Uncle Mal scathingly referred to him as a war profiteer when his name had come up earlier in the evening--he'd knowingly supplied faulty body armor to both sides during the Second Unification War, making himself even richer than he'd been to begin with and causing innumerable casualties by doing so--but Casimir had looked at her from across the room and suddenly nothing else mattered; suddenly, she knew what true love felt like.

Jessie fell, hard and fast.

Casimir romanced her; it probably wouldn't have turned out so bad if he hadn't, but he did. They danced and talked, he charmed her with poetic words of adoration that night and for every one during the month that followed. They made love in a way that sent Jessie's very soul to shaking and she thought she'd found it, that pure, true, never-ending love she'd been searching for her whole life, that would make her whole world right.

When it was time to return _Serenity_ to the skies, she didn't want to go. So she didn't.

"You... want to _stay_... with that... _ape_?" Her daddy gaped, salt-and-pepper hair in complete disarray from all the times he'd run his fingers through it since she'd made her announcement.

"Ya, Daddy," Jessie responded eagerly, a bit of a dreamy, naïve edge to her voice, "Cas and I are in love... I got somethin' real special and I don't wanna lose it. You understand, right?"

"NO!" He shouted, hinging on desperation, "NO! I don't understand at all! Jessie, honey, you're smarter than this! You're blinded by some fantasy version of him you've constructed in your own head! He's horrible! Why can't you see that?"

She got all misty-eyed, having heard from Louie that a misty-eyed Tam girl is more effective than a gun to the head when you're trying to get someone to do what you want. "I'm happy," Jessie whispered tearfully, "Don't you want me to be happy?"

Mouth open and gaping like a fish out of water, her daddy was knocked speechless.

He probably would've still been frozen in that same pose if it hadn't been for her mama gently laying a hand on his arm, giving him a watery smile before pushing him out of the room. She turned back to Jessie, fixing her with a very motherly glance before pulling her into a hug. "If this is really want you want, _bao bei_," Kaylee Tam murmured sadly, "Then we can't stop you. Just... be careful."

"I will, Mama!" Jessie answered excitedly, squeezing her mother tight around her neck, "But everything's shiny! I think Cas is the one!" She missed the sorrowful gleam in the old woman's eyes as she pulled away, bouncing off to pack her room.

She stayed in Cousin Tetsu's big house, spending her nights out with Casimir and having the time of her life. She missed her family a great deal, but they still waved often and when Ginny finally went to MedAcad the age of sixteen, Jessie was looking forward to having her sister nearby again.

Casimir took them both to lunch one day. Jessie thought it was going fine but Ginny stormed out halfway through.

"Gin!" Jessie yelled after her baby sister, struggling to keep up as she ran in a pair of expensive designer heels Casimir had insisted she buy for the occasion, "Gin! Hold up! What's wrong?"

The dark-haired girl turned, usually calm face flushed red with anger as her blue eyes flashed dangerously. "YOU!!" Ginny shouted at the top of her lungs, making a huge scene in the middle of the street just because she couldn't be bothered not to, "You're what's wrong!! You and that- that... _wo-nang fei_!!"

Jessie mouth dropped open, not believing her sister was insulting the man she loved.

"How could you just sit there and let him say those things?" Ginny demanded hotly, having fully lost her legendarily cool, "He insulted our entire family and everything we believe in before the first course even arrived and you just sat there and let him do it!! What is wrong with you? Are you really that blinded by a handsome smile and a few shiny baubles that you're willing to turn your back on your own morals?"

"You're just jealous!" Jessie yelled back, near tears at all the mean, hurtful, completely unfounded accusations, "You don't want me to be happy! No one in this family does! You all wanted me to stay on _Serenity_ forever! You wanted me all for yourselves and you can't handle the fact that I'm goin' out into the world to make my own life!"

Ginny just stared at her for a few moments before shaking her head in disbelief. She turned on her heel and left, muttering a shocking string of obscenities under her breath.

When Jessie made it back into the restaurant, she had a fake smile pasted on her face. She made excuses for Ginny, saying that she just had a lot of homework to be doing back at MedAcad. Casimir shrugged it off, not even seeming to care as he went back to devouring his meal and Ginny's uneaten one. Jessie spent the rest of lunch trying to figure out what Casimir had done that would've made Ginny say those things. She tried to listen a little closer to his talk about politics and business but, like always, got distracted by his eyes. He was so handsome and had such a nice, deep voice...

Before she knew it, Jessie'd been on Osiris for over a year and, during that time, she'd had confrontations with just about every member of her family involving Casimir. They all hated him; Jay called her an idiot right to her face for ever having anything to do with Casimir; Louisa refused to even talk to her, considering Jessie's relationship with the man responsible for killing so many of her fellow soldiers a deep betrayal.

She was convinced they were all just putting lies about him into her head so she'd come home; he really didn't say the mean things they claimed he did, that the Independents and Republic were inbred morons who deserved what the Alliance had done to them, that the rim worlds and everyone in them existed only to support the superior people in the core, that being born and living aboard a spaceship was unnatural and barbaric.

Even Cousin Tetsu got in on it. After a dinner with Casimir, she'd been practically shaking as she proclaimed, "Either you stop seeing that _goushi dui_ or you get out of my house."

So she left, certain that Casimir would take her in.

Only he didn't.

He thought that living together would make them grow apart and she didn't want that, right? 'Course not. Jessie checked herself into a motel.

Two days later, she missed her period.

She was pregnant. She was only twenty-one and didn't know how she could've let it happen. Still though, she was certain Casimir would do the right thing, that he would marry her and take care of her and their child.

Only he didn't.

He said he didn't want to see her anymore, that she was getting too serious when all he'd wanted was a casual thing. She hadn't really thought he'd ever marry her, had she? Space trash like her? Of course not. And she hadn't really thought that baby was his, had she? Of course it wasn't. Everyone knew Jessie was a _huli jing_ and her brat could be anyone's.

Jessie cried. She thought he loved her, begged and pleaded for him not to end it like that, for him not to leave her. Casimir Hastin had her removed from his building by security, giving instructions that she was never again to be allowed on the premises.

Standing out on the street corner in the rain, drenched and pregnant and alone, everything came crashing down. She'd given up her whole life for Cas and he'd just tossed her away like garbage... just like she'd tossed away her family just 'cuz they could see the things about him she didn't want to, the things she'd made herself blind to all in the name of love.

She felt so... stupid and embarrassed. She wanted nothing more than to run home but, after what she'd done, she didn't think anyone would be waiting with open arms. She chose Casimir over them. Why would they ever want to see her again?

So she left Osiris without telling a soul. Grounded in cold, hard reality once again, Jessie suddenly realized just how much of her money she'd spent during her time on the planet--on expensive clothes and ridiculous fineries she didn't need--that she had very little left and that little wouldn't get her far. She felt stupid all over again.

She got herself to Lilac and took a job as a mechanic fixing machinery in a small factory. That only lasted a few months; soon, she was too big to do any real work and, besides, she missed too many shifts on account of not being able to get out of bed for crying so hard. She was scared, so scared, and so alone.

The only other job she could find was serving ale in the local pub. The pay wasn't so great--nobody really wanted to tip a pregnant, tear-stained waitress--but it got her by. More months passed in a surreal blur of raw pain. The heartbreak was sharp and constant; she missed her family like hell but was too ashamed to even send them a wave.

And then, probably in her seventh month of pregnancy, probably in the middle of the day though it was hard to tell since the inside of the pub was always the same dim half-light and Jessie had long ago stopped paying attention to things like the passage of time, the heavy redhead picked up a tray full of ale from the bar counter and suddenly heard, "_Run-tse duh fwotzoo_!! Jessie!!"

She dropped the tray, splashing her bare legs with the bitter alcohol and cringing as she heard footsteps pounding right for her. She knew who it was; she didn't want to turn around because then what she'd done would be revealed.

But, like a blink, Louie was suddenly grabbing her by the shoulder and whirling her around. Her big sister looked different; it had been two years since they'd seen each other face to face and Lou was older, thirty-years-old, but she looked... happy. Jessie was jealous of her happiness.

"Jessie, what in the gorram hell..." The tall former soldier gasped, her blue eyes going wide at the sight of the redhead's huge stomach. A look of understanding passed across her pretty face and, despite the belly in the way, Louie pulled Jessie into a tight hug. Jessie couldn't help it; she hugged her _jie-jie_ right back, immediately sobbing into her strong shoulder as she whimpered, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

"Shh, _mei-mei_," Lou answered quietly, rubbing the young woman's shaking back and somehow managing to force her voice to remain soft even as she glared at the audience of gawking drunks, "Shh. It's alright. Everything's gonna be alright."

"You're a lot dumber than I thought you were if you thought me thinkin' you're dumb was any reason not to come home," Jay stated with a teasing smile after Jessie was all through telling her brothers and sisters what happened. Louie spirited her back to _Serenity_ aboard _Rapture_, the boat finally up off the ground and flying like a dream. They'd all been looking for her for months and were so happy just to see her safe. Baby Washburne had gotten so big; Jessie had to remind herself that he was already four-years-old and cursed herself missing out on so much because of her own stupidity.

Louie and Sam both reached out to smack Jay upside the head at once, earning a glare from him and a giggle from Angie, Mac, and baby Washburne. For the first time in years, Jessie truly felt like she was home; that feeling didn't make her any less depressed and utterly, completely heartbroken.

They made plans to transport her to Haven, where her mama and daddy had retired with Aunt Inara and Uncle Mal to Uncle Jayne and Aunt River's cattle ranch. They were all so worried about her; they didn't care about anything she'd done and were just thrilled she was home and safe.

But four days out, Jessie went into labor.

Haven's cortex connections were constantly on the fritz; Louisa growled about how they'd been that way since the war and someone should just fix the gorram things already. Unfortunately, they had no way of getting in touch with Dr. Tam and, while he'd trained the assembled crew how to deal with most medical emergencies, delivering a baby didn't happen to be one of them.

Sam got the idea to wave Ginny back on Osiris; their cortex connections were always good.

When Jessie faded out of the fog of pain, the youngest Tam was still in the midst of a rant about how she wasn't doing her ObGyn rotation until the next fall and the best she could do was try to talk them through the procedure she found detailed in one of her textbooks. Sam and Jay were insisting it would have to do.

Jessie's whole body was one fiery ache of contractions and heartbreak and loneliness. She couldn't do this!! She couldn't!! Her world had gone dark and weren't nothin' gonna make it bright again!! No way she could have a baby like this!!

"_Don't have her start pushing until she's ten centimeters dilated_!" Ginny yelled through the screen, trying hard and failing to make her voice remain clinical and detached.

Double-Trouble looked at each other blankly, blue eyes to black, before turning once more to the cortex and asking in a fearful unison, "Until _what's_ dilated?"

"_What'd you think, _ben dahn? _Her cervix_!" Ginny returned, sounding like she was wishing she was there with them just so she could reach out and slap the pair, "_I would hope, between the two of you, you somehow managed to figure out over the course of your lives that BABIES COME OUT OF VAGINAS_!!_ NOW LOOK AT IT AND TELL ME HOW FAR SHE'S DILATED_!!!"

The twins shared a terrified glance, Jay quickly holding out a fist as he challenged, "Evens."

Sam nodded in agreement, presenting his own fist as he proclaimed somberly, "Odds."

"One, two, three, shoot!" They chimed, every movement made like the fate of the whole 'verse rested on it. Each held out one finger and Sam swore at the top of his lungs.

Grinning impishly, Jay patted his older brother on the shoulder and teased, "Tough break, Sammy. I'll go fetch a ruler... think you'll be needin' one with a level on it?"

"Quit screwin' around!!" Louisa scolded crossly, kindly petting tendrils of Jessie's sweat-darkened red hair back from her pale forehead, her own red-gold curls breaking free from their usual functional ponytail, "This ain't no gorram game!"

Unaffected by the screaming, Jay continued to pout at Lou with big ole dark puppy eyes before she finally rolled hers and snapped, "No, we won't need a level! Now git!"

The twenty-four-year-old scampered off giggling, practically giddy over the fact that he would not have to be looking at or touching Jessie's woman parts... now, Angie's he wouldn't mind but he seemed to screw that up every time he tried so had started figuring that it was hopeless... not that that would stop him from keeping on trying. No, sir.

Sam's face had rapidly drained of color and he was pleading at Louisa with his daddy's ice blue eyes. "Louie, _jie-jie_, First Lieutenant Washburne-Machado, Ma'am," He begged desperately, "Don't you think that this, uh, sort a' job is something you'd be better at? I mean, you've had a kid before and, plus, you're more, er, well-versed in dealing with the... required equipment, seein' as you've got some a' your own..." He trailed off uncomfortably, wishing someone would just shoot him because that was sounding a helluva lot more inviting than whatever lay between Jessie's thighs.

"I can't let go a' Jessie's hand," Lou answered, a clear hint of the ever-classic "you're such a boob" in her voice as she nodded toward the death-grip currently keeping her captive, "Remember how you and Jay both shrieked like babies when you tried to hold her hands? Since I seem to be the only one on board not made up of fragile little bird bones, I gotta stay right here. Now, quit bein' a wuss and take a gander under that sheet. We don't really need a ruler at all and might as well get this done without Jay in the room gigglin' like a gorram fool."

"Ya, but..." Sam tried to argue, looking desperately to Angie just in time to watch her brown eyes suddenly roll back into her head as her slim body went slack. He darted out and caught her, cursing up a storm as he gently arranged the strawberry-blonde onto a clear counter that doubled as the spare infirmary bed. She was out like a light and, more importantly, incapable of taking his horrible job from him.

Just then, Jessie let out another shrill scream, her face screwed up in pain as she squeezed Louisa's hand hard enough to crush two bones out of place. The only indication of the trauma, beside the sickeningly meaty _pop-pop_ that echoed off the sterile white walls, was a slight flinch and tremble in the warrior woman's clenched jaw. Gorram, that Tam girl had a grip on her.

"GET IT OUTTA ME!!!" Jessie shrieked, hardly aware of anything aside from pain, from the feeling of total emptiness even while she was bigger than a house.

"It's still an it?" Mac inquired brightly as he suddenly came bouncing into the room. The stocky blonde merc was munching on a protein bar, tactlessly spewing crumbs as he spoke with his mouth full, "I thought we were gonna try figurin' out that ultrasound thingy to see if it was a little fella or little girlie."

"MAC!!" Sam squealed happily, the twenty-four-year-old bounding across the infirmary to grab the merc's shoulders, "See how far Jessie's dilated!"

Mac's pale eyebrows shot up under the messy curls covering most of his forehead. After a moment, he stated very frankly, "Whoa... I am so glad I don't work for you." He glanced over Sam's shoulder to his wife, asking hopefully, "You didn't trade me for a new gun while I was off caring for the beautiful child we made together, did you, gosling?"

"'Course not, husband," Louisa answered distractedly, still focused on whispering soothing words of comfort into Jessie's ears even while her hand turned purple and swelled, "You're worth at least three, maybe even four seein' as how the boy's so attached to ya." She suddenly stood up bolt straight, blue eyes going wide as she demanded, "Where'd you leave the boy?"

"Burne's fine," Mac stated, completely ignoring Sam's blustering as he stepped around him and walked over to check Angie's pulse, "He's playin' with some dinosaurs on _Rapture_'s bridge."

Lou's bronze face paled as she immediately demanded, "Did you-"

"Yes, I locked the controls," Mac interrupted, smiling sheepishly as he placed a cool washcloth over Angie's forehead, "Learned my lesson about that. But, you gotta admit, it was pretty ruttin' smart a' him, only four and already flyin' the ship all by his ownself. They grow up so fast. Brings a tear to the eye."

"Least he has a better flight record than Jay," Louie conceded with a smirk, relaxing back into trying to talk Jessie through the increasingly frequent and severe contractions.

"What'll it take to get you workin' for me?" Sam cut in desperately, grasping at straws for an out from his assignment, "I'll double whatever Louie's payin' ya!"

Mac gave him a strange look, inquiring, "You can double the most amazing sex I've ever had?" He made a very pensive face, theatrically stroking his clean-shaven jaw as he mused, "Hmm... I'm skeptical, yet intrigued..."

"_Still waiting over here_!" The cortex blared, Ginny's voice shrill and impatient, "_Any of you _fei ren_s even bothered to look yet_?"

"What if I just hold the screen up to it..." Sam suggested, panicking slightly as it began looking more and more likely that he was going to have to actually... gaze into the abyss, so to speak. The dark-haired young man clearly inherited the captain's Puritanical views of the human body as well as his gift for the creative euphemism.

Before he could finish his suggestion, Louisa snarled, "Oh, to _hell_ with this!" In a blink, she drew her large pistol into her free hand, easily cocking the hammer as she held it only a few inches from Sam's forehead. His eyes crossed to stare down the barrel as he gulped convulsively.

Jay chose that minute to come bounding back into the room, triumphantly holding out a sleek ruler-level combo. Soon as he saw the standoff, he dropped it and his hands flew up in a gesture of silent surrender.

"I ain't gonna tell you again, Solomon Derrial Reynolds," Lou warned dangerously, her terrifying voice cracking just the slightest bit as Jessie continued to constrict the dislocated bones in her hand, "Look under the ruttin' sheet. _Now_."

"Ok, ok," He fearfully agreed, backing away slowly until he was stood right _there_. After a deep breath and a few moments of internal debate over whether or not getting shot might really be worth it to avoid his fate, he slowly peeked his head under the edge of the sterile blue sheet covering Jessie's bare lower half.

"_Ai ya tyen-ah_!!" He shrieked, his voice breaking on every syllable as he became scarred irreparably, "There's a head!! Oh, gorramit!! There's a **HEAD!!!**"

"_That's a good sign_!" Ginny's voice blared through the cortex, "_Hold onto it, but don't pull_!! _Make sure the umbilical cord isn't wrapped around it's neck_!!"

"I ain't touchin' it!!" Sam squeaked, his head popping up and making a rather comical bump in the sheet, "I didn't get no gloves!! For the love of Buddha, someone get me some gloves!!"

"Here's a towel," Jay supplied helpfully, whipping Sam's own bath towel at his brother's back, "Good luck!"

"_Jessie, PUSH_!!" Ginny instructed, "_This is it, Jes_! _Just a little more_!"

"_Ni ta ma de_!_ Tian-xia sou-you-de ren dou gai si_! Ya'll are goin' to the special hell!" Sam swore wildly from beneath the sheet, "And don't anybody even _think_ about touchin' the showers 'fore me!!... _run-tse duh fwotzoo_, it's so _gooey_!!!"

"Shut _up_, Sam!" Lou ordered furiously, with plenty of her own pain to endure as she tried to counsel Jessie through hers. "Breathe, Jes," The pilot soothed, holding eye contact with the frightened young woman, "Take a real deep breath and then push. This'll all be over soon. Come on, _mei-mei_, almost there."

"I-I can't!" Jessie sobbed, paralyzed by pain and hopelessness and heartbreak and fear even as she instinctually bore down to bring her child into the world.

"_Sam_!" Ginny's voice interrupted, "_Be careful_! _Once the shoulders are free it'll slide right out_! _Don't drop it_!"

Sounding highly offended, the man under the sheet quipped, "I don't need to be told not to drop a baby! I ain't that dumb... WHOA! Slippery little fella!"

And the whole room was suddenly filled to the brim with tiny newborn cries, frantic and confused and disoriented. After a brief moment of fumbling, Sam stood with a squirming little bundle tucked safely in his arms. "Well, would you look at that?" He joked, fondly surveying the slimy infant wrapped up in what he had yet to realize was his own towel, "Another male for our ranks. This day's startin' to pick up."

Jessie sagged back into the angled bed, exhausted and sobbing. Ginny was yelling something about placenta over the cortex as everyone else in the room--well, everyone who was conscious anyways--rushed to crowd around the newest crew member.

Slowly prying her bruised and battered hand out of Jessie's death grip, Louisa stayed by her sister's side. She leaned in closer, smiling softly as she whispered, "You got a son, _mei-mei_. He's beautiful."

"Lou," She whimpered, still in shock as her broken heart throbbed inside her chest, "I can't-"

Her protests were cut off by Sam carefully laying the screaming child on her chest. He was so little, with dark tawny skin still wrinkled and sticky from his minutes-old birth, with a tiny smooshed up face and scrunched up eyes, with a mop of dark scarlet hair on the top of his lopsided head.

"He's..." Jessie gasped, in utter awe of the light and warmth and love she could feel pouring off the tiny creature as she gently took one of his small hands into hers, "He's so _beautiful_." She was crying still, but it didn't hurt no more. The world was lookin' a lot less dark, a lot less hopeless.

"Absolutely radiant," Mac teased fondly, winking as he tossed an arm around his wife's strong shoulders and tenderly inspected her injured hand, "Just like his mama. You got a name for him, Miss Sunshine?"

"Hey, is that _my_ towel?" Sam accused angrily, earning a dangerous glare from Louisa that sealed his mouth up tight.

Oblivious to the outside world, Jessie looked down into her son's face, holding him closer and feeling whole for the first time in nearly eight months, maybe even for the first time ever. One of her tears fell onto his cheek; she sniffled and wiped it away, running her fingers over the rest of his little body and instantly falling in love. She'd found it, that pure, true, never-ending love she always wanted and it was right there in her arms. To hell with romance; she'd been waiting for the boy her whole life without even realizing it. Nothing else could ever compare and he made the heartbreak she'd suffered at the hands of his father nothing but a distant memory.

"David," Jessie murmured, her voice quiet as the dark child began to settle into her warmth and strong, familiar heartbeat, "Heard somewhere that it means 'beloved.'"

The room got real quiet as David Tam yawned and cuddled up to his mama. They made the perfect picture of love and happiness, peaceful and stunning in the strength they'd found in one another. Their radiance made the whole ship glow like it was a star all unto itself.

"_I can't see_!!" Ginny's voice erupted out of the cortex, blaring but unable to disrupt the otherworldly calm that had fallen over the old Firefly, "_I can't see_!! _Hey_!! _Heeeeeeeeeey_!! _Someone show me my gorram nephew before I come out there and shoot ya'll_!!"

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Translations -

ge-ge - older brother

jie-jie - older sister

mei-mei - younger sister

bao bei - sweetheart

wo-nang fei - loser

goushi dui - pile of dog excrement

huli jing - overly seductive woman, slut (lit. fox spirit)

run-tse duh fwotzoo - merciful Buddha

ben dahn - dummy

fei ren - useless person

ai ya tyen-ah - merciless hell

ni ta ma de! tian-xia sou-you-de ren dou gai si! - damnit! everyone in the universe ought to die!

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Author's notes -

Casimir - a Slavic name meaning "destroyer of peace."

Radiance - warm, cheerful intensity; the quality of being bright and sending out rays of light; an attractive combination of good health and happiness.


	3. Truth

Part 3 - Truth

It all started out innocently enough.

It was just one last stop on _Serenity_'s usual Supply Corps run.

It was hot, mid-June, and they were on little dump of a moon called Muir; they were trying to get their drop done quick and continue on to Haven so they could be in time to celebrate Jayne Jr. and Alleyne Cobb's twelfth birthday. They'd made promises and the Cobb kids would not take kindly to those promises being broken. Sam and Jay Reynolds were under the distinct impression that the younger set of twins had somehow managed to inherit their mother's "kill you with my brain" powers. Wonder who could've given them that idea...

No, really. With that family, it was impossible to tell.

But, simple as that all sounded, the morning got complicated fairly early on.

"I can't go on the run today," Odin "Mac" Machado declared, looking tired and haggard as he came stumbling into _Serenity_'s kitchen with his squirming six-year-old son tucked beneath his thick arm.

"What?" Sam inquired doubtfully as he looked up out of his bowl of lukewarm protein mush, "Why the hell not?"

"Louie's sick," Mac reported miserably, going through the cupboards in search of a stomach-flu-friendly breakfast he'd been unable to find amidst the supplies on _Rapture_, "Been up the whole night-cycle heavin' her guts out and I ain't leavin' her like that."

The dark-haired Reynolds twin nodded somberly, knowing better than to argue with the stocky blonde merc. He was a very nice guy most of the time, but messing with the health and happiness of his wife or son was a sure way to find out exactly why he'd gone into the mercenary business in the first place. Besides, it wouldn't do to take him along only to have him distracted all day. Sam was fond of keeping pretty tight control over those types of situations and a distracted merc was a wildcard he didn't want to have to deal with.

"Lou's never sick!" Jay chimed tactlessly, laying on the floor and holding two-year-old David Frye Tam squealing high up over his head, "And, even if she is, she'll never admit it. She won't want you hangin' around buggin' her."

"Did you not hear me, little man?" Mac challenged the tall twenty-six-year-old, "I said 'my wife is sick today and I'll be staying to take care of her.' I thought I was bein' pretty straightforward so which part's got you confused?" Heedless of Jay's highly immature pout, Mac set his son on the ground, ruffling the boy's mop of blonde curls as he prompted, "Go play with your stupid uncle."

"STUPID UNCLE!!" Washburne cried happily, taking a running leap and dive right into Jay's unprotected stomach.

The younger Reynolds twin let out a pained 'OOF' and very nearly dropped David, not that the toddler cared. No, he let out a high pitched laugh and thought almost crashing headfirst into the floor was all just a part of Uncle Jay's game.

"Why am I the stupid uncle?" Jay grumbled, sulking as he flipped David to stand on his own two feet. The little boy's scarlet hair was perpetually on-end, adding an extra few inches to his meager height. He had his father's beautiful gold eyes and flawless dark skin and strong, aristocratic features but, fortunately, that was just about all he'd ever inherit from the horrible man. He had his mama's sunshine smile, her inner light and infectious laugh.

Snorting, Mac turned from his pillage to give Jay a "you've met you, right?" look, causing the man to scowl in return.

"Bone!" David cried out happily, jumping across the room to tackle Washburne off of Jay's stomach, "Bone! Bone! Dinosauws!"

Laughing, the older boy tugged his surrogate little brother into a playful headlock and scolded brightly, "No, Davey! Not Bone! _Burne_!" The blonde smiled up at his father, light fawn skin flushed behind sparse freckles as he asked, "Daddy, can I take Davey to play dinosaurs in my bunk?"

"Why don't you grab some and bring 'em back here?" Mac suggested kindly, "I'm gonna see if Auntie Jessie and Auntie Angie'll watch you today while I take care a' your mama."

"Ok," Burne chirped dutifully, bouncing to his feet and taking Davey's little hand to lead the toddler off towards the port-side shuttle hatch where _Rapture_ was docked. The two boys were laughing and joking, brothers in everything but blood, just like their mamas were sisters in the same way. With a can of condensed broth and a package of carb wafers, Mac soon followed after.

Later, as the Reynolds twins were driving out to make the drop, Jay was, as always, the first to break their long, thoughtful silence. "Lou's pregnant," He reported, lazing back into his seat, his feet on the dashboard of the mule and his long arms behind his head of light brown curls as he squinted into the bright horizon.

"How do you figure?" Sam inquired, carefully guiding the craft over the scorched, barren desert, cool and collected and completely in control at the wheel, "Or do I not wanna know?"

Jay laughed, answering, "Think about it. When was the last time she was sick? The only time she's ever been sick, far back as I can remember at least?"

Smirking fondly, Sam noted, "When she was pregnant with Burne... well, that'll be nice. Davey just started sleepin' through night-cycle and now we're gonna get a new ankle-biter to be wakin' me up."

"You know you love the kids," Jay quipped, closing his eyes and tipping his face up to catch the sun's intense heat more fully, relishing in it after weeks of the cold dark of the black.

"Never said I didn't," Sam replied, "I just happen to love sleep as well."

The drop went as expected, smooth even. It had been many years since anything went disastrously wrong for the crew but, still, they always went in expecting trouble and always felt mighty relieved when there weren't none. This job was particularly good because the local Supply Corps personnel were in the process of cleaning out a newly-discovered former-Alliance warehouse stockpile and offered the twins a whole load of useful stuff all for free, rifles, parts, rations, and even a few crates of body armor.

Sam was pretty skeptical about accepting the armor.

"Lou'll kill us if we bring these aboard," He argued, holding a thick plate of purple Kevlar composite out at arm's length, "Then she'll revive us and kill us again. The second'll pro'ly hurt more. Some of the rage will have been abated and she'll be willin' to take her time."

"We'll paint 'em!" Jay suggested brightly, already trying on one of the vests, "We'll spray paint 'em black and she'll never know the difference. Come on, Sammy. We couldn't ever afford to armor the whole crew otherwise. And remember when Lou was pregnant with Burne? She took almost two months to admit it and insisted on goin' on runs just tryin' to prove there wasn't nothin' wrong with her. You really want her gettin' shot with a baby on the way?"

Glaring, Sam replied, "That's ruttin' low, you manipulative son of a... fine. We'll paint 'em, but if Lou finds out, I'm blamin' it all on you."

Grinning, Jay happily chirped, "Sure thing."

Mac was utterly delighted with the newly spray painted black armor. He claimed the largest vest, the only one that would fit over his broad chest, and then happily ran back to _Rapture_. Lou was still in bed, but he wanted to show her and he also wanted her and Burne to come find vests for themselves. It thrilled him to know there would be one more line of defense between his family and any bullets that might come their way.

Even Jessie and Angie appreciated the windfall. The mechanics didn't normally go anywhere near any shooting that had to be done, but were touched nonetheless that their big brothers cared so much about protecting all of them.

Jay was feeling mighty proud of himself, proclaiming to all who would listen how he was the one that thought the vests would be a good idea. He made Mac take back the stupid uncle remark and started training Burne and Davey to call him the Super Uncle instead.

After a few days of space travel, the crew made it to Haven with a whole day to spare. Louisa was still sick in bed so Burne had to carefully talk his inept father through _Rapture_'s landing sequence. Well, that's the story he and Mac told Louie; in actuality, the curly-haired six-year-old landed the Seraph all on his own. Mac was proud as could be... but still thought it best not to tell his wife he'd let the boy fly solo. That would not be a wise move and lying was far agreeable to him than the prospect of getting shot.

Jayne Jr. and Alleyne were there as soon as the hatches opened, rushing inside and jumping all over their big brothers and sisters, excited as they always were to get a visit and begging for stories from the great wide 'verse. They were both tall for their age--they could thank the hearty Cobb stock for that--as well as dark-haired and wild-spirited. Jayne Jr. had his mama's glassy, burnt black eyes; Alleyne, her daddy's girl in ever sense of the word, possessed the merc's stunning baby blues. Both twins inherited their mama's superior intellect. Leyne had mastered and grown bored with calculus by the age of seven; J.J. practically came out of the womb quoting Sartre, Yeats, and Confucius. Both also inherited a bit of her foresight and sensitivity. They could sense storms from three days off, could calm the cattle with a mere touch and whispered word.

They were also tough. The rare occasions when they fought had grown fairly epic on Haven as neither twin had a problem with beating the snot out of the other. Jayne couldn't even could the number of times the pair come home bloodied up but already made up, laughing with their arms thrown around each other. Nobody messed with the Cobb twins but the Cobb twins; even if one or both didn't thrash ya senseless, everyone knew that their daddy'd been teachin' 'em to shoot since before they could walk. Both could snipe rabbits from several hundred yards off and were _fiercely_ protective of each another.

"Hey, J.J., Leyne," Mac grunted, having a hard time carrying Lou out of the boat. It wasn't that she was heavy for the muscle-bound merc, not at all. The pilot just didn't take kindly to being carried like a gorram child and was futilely trying to make her protests known even as she fought to keep the meager contents of her stomach inside her stomach. "I'll greet ya proper later," The stocky blonde soothed the pouting twins, "Louie's sick. I gotta take her in to see the doc."

They just stood there in the way, cocking their heads to the side with an eerily-timed synchrony. Then, all at once, they both grinned real wide and stepped to the side. Mac made a mental note to talk to Jayne about teaching his children to be less gorram creepifying.

_Serenity_'s older generation was thrilled to see their children return for a visit. Kaylee grabbed and tickled her grandbabies, cooing over how big both Burne and Davey had gotten, how they were so handsome and bright. Simon greeted his daughters with elated hugs, calling Rosie and Ginny, who were both newly graduated from the respective universities and taking extended vacations on the planet, out to welcome their sisters. He was then whisked away by the anxious merc with demands that the doctor fix his gorram wife.

River watched with a secretive little smile playing on her lips, feet bare and salted dark hair blowing free in the hot plain winds.

Mal had a proud gleam in his eye as his two strong sons presented the whole family with body armor. It was a perfect gift for the ragtag crew. Even though many years had passed without trouble, they never knew when it was about to find them again. The gray-haired browncoat clapped them both on the back, able to convey pride in their actions with just the simple gesture before he let their mama have at them.

No one looking on would have recognized Inara from the woman she once was. Sure, she was beautiful as ever--sixty-two but aging gracefully and still elegant from her deeply ingrained training--but she had so much more... passion... lust for life, Mal liked to tease with a leer.

The little former-Companion grabbed both her sons at once, trapping them in a crushing hug as she sniffled on about how happy she was to have them home, how she hoped they were watching out for their sisters and each other and eating plenty of vegetables and staying warm, how it wouldn't kill them to wave her more often.

Sam and Jay turned bright red but couldn't even pretend not to enjoy getting in a good cuddle with their mama. Weren't many occasions for men of tweny-six to have such a thing and they sure as hell missed it. Jessie teased that they were both mama's boys, through and through.

The big family spent that night doing what they did best when they got together: laughing, eating, drinking, swapping stories, and giving each other hell. Despite being on an I.V. drip to get her rehydrated and so nauseas she could barely stand, Louisa was still able to participate. She was pretty irritated with Mac, Burne, Ginny, and Uncle Simon all fussing over her while they waited for the results from her blood tests to finish, but she was happy to have all them around again so let it slide without _too_ many threats of violence.

Jayne had a real fun time horsing around with the youngins. He was big and burly and energetic as ever even at sixty-one as he wrestled with all the kids on the floor, as he resisted telling Jayne Jr. and Alleyne about the secret birthday presents he'd gotten them. He teased that they should just read his mind if they were so gorram impatient.

They both pouted, proclaiming that they couldn't _really_ read minds. Their perceptiveness wasn't as strong as their mama's. The twins could only get... feelings, sometimes, and they didn't feel nothing about presents from their daddy except that he was having a real good time making them wait to find out what they were; didn't even have to be a mind-reading genius to know that. It was cute to watch 'em get frustrated as the big gray merc-turned-rancher just sat back and laughed his muscular buttocks off.

Everyone fell asleep in the living room of the Reynolds house, sprawled all over the hard floor and lumpy couches but comfortable as could be surrounded by family.

Louisa was the first one awake in the morning, her stomach heaving violent just as the sun spilled over the horizon. She ripped the empty I.V. out of her arm trying to untangle herself from Mac and Burne's tight sleep embraces, then accidentally kicked Jay hard in the head as she ran outside to lose everything in her guts. Since nothing was there, it was nothing but a gush of scorching bile onto the dusty earth.

Simon noticed her leave, rubbing his eyes as he quickly ran to grab her test results from one of his machines. He read them, smiled, and ran out to help his adoptive niece.

"Here, _bao bei_," The doctor kindly offered out a full glass as he kneeled down beside where Louisa was bent over and coughing in the dirt a ways off from the houses, "Drink some water."

"_Xie-xie_," Lou returned, gulping the cool liquid and immediately having to heave it all right back up again, gagging as her throat burned. "Sorry," She cringed hoarsely.

"Don't apologize," Uncle Simon scolded, rubbing her back and making sure the woman's tight curls remained in their functional ponytail, "It's what I'm here for. Let me know when you're ready to try walking back. Your test results came in and I'm fairly sure I can give you something to make you feel better."

"Oh ya?" The pilot challenged hopefully, "You figured out what's wrong with me?"

Grinning, the man of sixty-one answered, "Nothing's wrong. You're pregnant, _bao bei_. About twelve weeks. Congratulations."

After a brief moment of shock, of staring blankly up into Uncle Simon's warm, wrinkled face, Lou turned her head and promptly vomited again. The she started laughing. "Well, alright," She ground out, voice happy and newly resolved, "Guess that means Burne's got a good chance at that baby sister after all... I think I can get up now, if you'll lend a hand."

"Of course," Simon agreed, carefully slipping an arm around Louie's taller form as they started back towards the house, "I'll put you back on the I.V. to keep you hydrated and add in a stronger anti-emetic. Inara might have some ginger tea for you and that should help as well. You'll also need to start a course of prenatal vitamins and, um... would you like to make an announcement?"

Smiling wanly, Lou declared, "I'll tell Mac after breakfast, but best wait for the rest. Don't wanna hijack J.J. and Leyne's big day."

Simon nodded, laughing, "Of course."

Later, when Jay was helping set up tables for the birthday party, he caught sight of Louisa and Mac talking quietly beneath the shade of the sturdy apple tree on the east side of the yard, right up in front of the Cobb house. Louie still had an I.V. in her arm but had whined and threatened until Mac let her out to walk around. She was fully strapped--Jay was under the impression that she probably slept with her pistols and armor on--and he was holding the bag up for her.

Jay elbowed his brother as he looked on, watching Lou whisper something with a great big ole smile on her pretty face, watching Mac suddenly drop the I.V. bag in shock. After the briefest hesitation, the stocky blonde merc grabbed his wife right off the ground, hugging her close and spinning her in circles as he planted a long kiss on her. Soon as he was through, he dropped to his knees and peeled up her shirt, placing a soft kiss there as well before he started chattering right into her belly. Louisa laughed happily, probably professing to be annoyed even as she fondly combed her slender fingers through her husband's soft gold curls.

Smirking at Sam, Jay teased, "Told ya so."

The party was a great success. There were heaps of food, and games, and dancing, and it seemed like damn near every person on the whole planet came round to the Cobb ranch to join in the celebration. After a _real_ strawberry cake, Jayne nodded conspiratorially to a young ranch hand and disappeared for awhile. When he came back, he was leading a pair of ornery young mustangs, one all over, shining black with piercing blue eyes and the other drenched in dusty shade of blood red, white war paint markings around both its dark eyes.

"Happy birthday!" Jayne presented proudly, trying to stay clear of the rearing, snorting animals as he handed the reins over to his children, "Caught these ferals a few weeks back and figured it was 'bout time you each had a horse a' your own. The black ones a filly and the red's a colt, so just don't kill each other fightin' over who gets which."

J.J. and Alleyne stared at the animals, purely in awe but also... something else... something no one looking on could quite pin down. Almost felt like the eerie twins were communicating with the animals, slowly calming them down with gentle caresses from inside their minds.

Frowning, Jayne was a little slow to catch on. He looked like he'd just been told there was no Santa Claus as he pouted, "Doncha like 'em? Gorramit, ya don't like 'em! I knew I shoulda stuck with my first idea!"

"Firearms are not suitable gifts at current stage of development," River soothed, appearing out of nowhere to slide her tiny hand into her husband's giant one, "Sweet sixteen, _xiao-xiong_. Do not worry. Offspring love the equines."

Jayne's face bloomed into a seldom-seen blush. He tried to tilt his cowboy hat lower to hide it, grumbling, "Oh... and I told ya a million times, I ain't no teddy bear. I'm a mean old man."

The decade younger witch at his side shot him a placating smile as she agreed, "Of course he is. _My_ mean old man."

Jayne Jr. and Alleyne had already each approached one of the wild animals--J.J. took the red colt and Leyne the black filly--and were murmuring soothing nothings as they carefully pressed their foreheads against those of the fierce young horses. Before long, the twins were seated proudly on the animals' bare backs, beaming and looking perfectly at ease even while the savage creatures struck fear into everyone else with their threatening stares and hot whinnying.

"Huh," Jayne observed as he scratched his thinning gray hair, "Well, ain't that somethin'? I damn near got my head taken off just tryin' to put the ruttin' things in reins..."

"Thank you, Daddy!" Alleyne called happily, hitched up cotton skirt and long, wild hair flying out behind her slim body as she kicked her lustrous black horse forward at a full gallop. "Thanks, Pa!" J.J. contributed, the strapping boy hanging onto his hat as he followed his sister on a few scary fast laps of the surrounding plains. The other ranchers present stood around admiring the fine animals and their spectacularly gifted riders.

By the time Auntie Kaylee came out with the pretty piñata she'd made, the horses had told the twins their names.

The black one was Daiyu. Leyne said she was scared to be captured because she'd seen her mother captured and worked to death by a cruel owner; Alleyne promised the strong young filly she would be protected and well-cared for, that she'd never have a hand raised against her. Daiyu called Leyne her girl, her sister, and said she was a fierce guardian and a courageous spirit. Their bond ran deep, souls joined deep.

The red was Houjin. J.J. reported that he was a warrior and a king; it was undignified for a king to be held in bondage so the young boy swore he'd never put a chain or mark of ownership on him. Houjin observed that he had a gracious heart and made an offer of friendship. With a downright courtly bow, J.J. humbly accepted. They were equals, trusted companions.

River bragged to anybody who'd listen about how proud she was that her children had discovered the awesome power honesty had in fostering loyalty and love.

Jayne grumbled; it weren't enough he had to pay extra for painless microchip brands cuz a' his wife and kids insisting the cattle had _feelings_, now they were sayin' he couldn't brand the mustangs at all! Ruttin' moonbrained youngins, thinkin' they could talk to horses. Got that craziness from their mama.

Jay shimmied up the apple tree to hang the piñata--a bright blue horse with a big toothy grin and a tail made out of rainbow streamers; Aunt River called it the equine effigy. J.J. and Leyne decided they wanted Davey to have the first swing at it. He was excited cuz he'd never seen one before and Burne told him that _real_ candy would come out when it got broke open. The little redhead was giggling brightly as he was blindfolded and spun in a circle, as he walked forward like a two and a half foot tall drunk, carelessly swinging the stick he'd been given and not making contact with the equine effigy even once.

The gunshot cracked through the hot summer air and the piñata exploded into bits of shattered candy and brightly-colored paper-mache shell. Chaos erupted as the dozens of partygoers began screaming, running, diving beneath tables, getting clipped by the bullets and crying out in agony as they plummeted to the earth; the horses went crazy and stampeded off onto the range.

Burne did as he'd been trained to since his baby cousin had been born: he grabbed Davey and dragged the toddler for cover inside the house. He fell in the doorway, crying out as a bullet grazed his forehead.

"BURNE!!" Louisa shrieked wildly, gun out and not a thought aside from her boy going through her mind as she saw him fall, as she sprinted for him across the wide open yard. The next blast hit her square in the chest. The force of it threw her backwards, flat into the dirt and she laid still. Mac screamed for her, tried to run for her, but Sam, Jay, and two of Jayne's biggest ranch hands tackled the merc down. Wouldn't do anyone any good for him to get shot as well.

"I'd like a word with Malcolm Reynolds, if you please," A dainty, syrupy sweet female voice called out of the frightened stillness that fell over the party, its owner hidden somewhere along the craggy bluffs to the west.

After a brief pause and lack of response, the sound of a sniper rifle _chkchk _being cocked echoed throughout the sheltered, deathly quiet little valley. "This lovely lady still has a chance to live," The voice observed stoically, "Chest wounds are nasty, but she looks to be breathing. Won't stay that way for long if Malcolm Reynolds doesn't make his presence known."

"YOU FUCKING _BITCH_!!" Mac screamed, struggling hysterically against the four men holding him facedown in the dust as his anger overwhelmed his reason, as he panicked from hearing his son crying inside the house and not hearing his wife--his _pregnant_ wife--at all. "I AM GONNA KILL YOU!!" He vowed wildly, "AIN'T NOWHERE IN THE 'VERSE SAFE FOR YOU NOW, _CHOU-BIAO-ZI_!!! I AM GONNA FIND YOU AND MAKE YOU WISH YOU WEREN'T NEVER BORN!!"

_POW _The next shot made the dirt jump mere inches from Louie's head. The paling pilot didn't even flinch as the puddle of blood she was lying in just got bigger and bigger, dark and sticky and hot.

"Again," The attacker demanded, sounding like she was quickly beginning to get irritated, "Malcolm Reynolds, if you please."

"I'm Mal Reynolds," The captain called out, behind the apple tree on the east side of the yard, "And if you're fight's with me, then I'll thank you to let all these nice folks leave in peace 'fore it gets started."

"Not going to happen, Captain Reynolds," The woman responded airily, once again _chkchk_ cocking her gun, "Please, step out where I can see you with your hands in the air and walk toward the sound of my voice."

Mal paused for a brief moment before stating, "Don't know what you've heard about me, Miss, but I ain't that stupid."

"I'm not going to shoot you," The woman assured, giving the distinct impression that she was rolling her eyes. Everyone who'd already caught a bullet rolled their eyes at her. "Not yet, anyways," She corrected, "I have a few questions I'd like to ask and I want to watch your face while you're answering them. Please, step out where I can see you with your hands in the air and walk toward the sound of my voice." After another brief, still pause, she added, "Failure to comply will cost the lieutenant her life."

Without hesitation, Mal stepped out from behind the tree with his hands held up in surrender and walked west towards the center of the clearing, towards Louisa's motionless form.

"That's far enough, thank you," The woman sang out happily, stopping him in his tracks several feet from the fallen pilot and her abandoned pistol, "Now, Captain, you don't know me but I believe you were _very _well acquainted with my mother. She would probably send her regards but, unfortunately, she's dead."

The old browncoat had a deep frown marring his wrinkled features as he squinted into the glaring sun and attempted to search the empty hillside. There wasn't even a rustle of a bush to give away the mysterious attacker's location. She was obviously highly skilled. "I'm sorry to hear that, Miss," He placated solemnly, trying to buy time and keep her from getting trigger-happy again while he racked his brain for who she could possibly be.

She snorted loudly, answering, "Please, don't patronize me, and _do not_ pretend you cared about my mother. She was a strong, brilliant woman who was _far_ too good for you. Twelve years ago, on her deathbed, she told me- Pay attention, Captain Reynolds! Look up and _pay attention_!"

His gaze snapped away from Louisa, from the way she was struggling for breath as her parted lips took on a slight blue tinge, from the dark pool of blood she was lying in. "Sorry," He apologized gruffly, barely keeping his temper in check as he dealt with the person holding the rifle on him and Zoe's baby, the person who'd _gunned down_ Zoe's baby.

"Now, as I was saying," The woman continued, rather impatient and annoyed, "On her deathbed, my mother revealed to me the identity of my father, the worthless pile of _go-se_ who, twenty-six years ago, took her as a wife as _payment_ for a job, took advantage of her, and then abandoned her in the middle of a desert when she became pregnant with me. It was you, Captain Reynolds... or should I call you Daddy?"

Mal's jaw damn near hit the floor. For what felt like the longest time, his tongue would not cooperate with his desire to flat out deny the accusation. "Yo-Saff-Bridge?" He gaped helplessly, having a very hard time holding back his fury that that woman was coming back to harm him and his yet again, and from beyond the grave even.

"Her name was Bella Sanzmerci," The attacker announced scathingly, angry but taking the time and effort to proudly pronounce the words with an added flourish--_Behl-lah Sahntz-mehr-chi_--"And I'm going to make you pay for what you did to her, to the both of us, but first I want to know why. An apology would be nice as well."

"I never touched that ruttin' woman!!" Mal insisted furiously, for the thousandth time, "She was a thief and a con! She tricked me into a hillbilly marriage and then sold out my entire crew! She damn near got us killed! I left her in the desert cuz she was out to leave me there first! And she sure as_ hell_ wasn't pregnant with no kid a' mine cuz _I never touched her_!"

"It will do you no good to lie, Daddy," Yo-Saff-Bridge Jr. sang out sweetly, "Admit what you did, explain to me your motivations, apologize for abandoning us, and then I can shoot you and move on with my life."

Face red, Mal fired back, "I _ain't_ your gorram daddy!! And I ain't lyin' neither! I'd love the chance to prove it to ya but I don't got time at the moment! Louie's gonna die if she don't get help soon!"

Still struggling wildly beneath the bodies pinning him down, Mac let out a pained, strangled snarl.

"And you're under the impression that I care?" The hidden woman taunted, her voice taking on a bitter, resentful edge as she began punctuating her speech with shots aimed into the dirt all around Louie's head.

_POW _"Why shouldn't I let her die?"

_chkchkPOW_ "Why shouldn't I put a bullet to her brainpan?"

_chkchkPOW_ "Why should you be allowed your family when you denied even the most basic one to my mother and me?"

_chkchkPOW _"My mother gave birth to me in an Alliance penitentiary!"

_chkchkPOW_ "One that _you_ put her in!!"

_chkchkPOW _"They took me away, ripped me right out of her arms two minutes after I was born, and I was raised in an orphanage run more like a prison work camp!"

_chkchkPOW_ "Do you have any idea what that was like, Captain Reynolds?"

_chkchkPOW_ "To spend my childhood in constant fear of the dozens of guns that were aimed at my head at any given moment?"

_chkchkPOW_ "To one day be pulled out of my bunk in the middle of the night, terrified that I was going to be executed or sold into slavery like I'd seen done to so many of my friends, only to be told that the mother I'd never met was dying, that I was allowed to see her only once before she went?"

_chkchkPOW_ "Do you have any idea what it was like to watch her waste away as she told me with her very last breath I had a father who could have saved us both from that fate?"

_chkchkPOW_

"I'm tellin' you," Mal cried out desperately, panicking as he saw Lou's breathing start to come in short, gaping pants, "I didn't do any a' that! Your mama was a thief and a con!! She lied to you!"

"She would _never_ lie to me," Yo-Saff-Bridge Jr. hissed venomously, slowly and _chkchk _deliberately cocking her gun one last time, "My mother _loved_ me and you stole both our lives from us!"

The center of Mal's forehead began to itch and he knew without a doubt that's where the crosshairs of the sniper rifle had come to rest. He knew it was gonna be the end.

"And now I'm going to steal your life from you," She bade brightly, "Goodbye, Daddy."

_POW_ The shot rang out. Beneath an overturned picnic table, Inara shuddered violently and pressed her face tightly into Kaylee's thin, trembling shoulder. She didn't want to look. She didn't want to look and see her husband crumpled and bleeding and lifeless in the dirt. She didn't want to. She couldn't. The old woman let out a loud, anguished sob.

Confused as to why he didn't feel nearly as dead as he should, Mal squeezed open one eye and cautiously looked around the deserted clearing. He ran one of his still raised hands over his brow ridge. It was wrinkled, sure, but there weren't no holes in it... huh.

Suddenly, a petite female body dressed in light desert fatigues came soaring out of a thick patch of scrub high on the cliff face, tumbling through the air limp as a rag doll before crashing farther down the slope. She had chin-length hair the color of wet straw and a gushing bullet wound in her right thigh that left a long, glistening trail or rubies in the dirt as she rolled the rest of the way down into the clearing.

Mal blinked and then the deserted clearing was once more crawling with big burly ranchers and _Serenity_ crewmembers. All were heavily armed and all had their weapons pointed at the slender young woman who was groaning and bleeding in the dust. Mac was finally released and beat the Dr.s Tam to his wife's side.

"Louie, baby," He soothed softly, tears in his thick-lashed green eyes as he held her cold hand in his, "No, baby, now, come on, don't do this. Please, stay with me."

"Mac," Ginny ordered, kindly as she could force herself to be as she shoved his large frame out of the way, "We got her. Check on Burne."

He looked like he wanted to argue, opened his mouth to argue even as the warring obligations played over his rugged features. "Don't let her die," He pleaded, his voice breaking as he got to his feet and sprinted towards where he could hear his son whimpering inside the captain's house.

The little blonde was trying to be brave, holding his hand against the deep, stinging graze across the left crown of his forehead and trying not to cry as he comforted Davey, who was wailing hysterically for his mama. Mac immediately scooped both boys off the ground, holding them tight, assuring himself of their safety, comforting them, and comforting himself in the process. Jessie was quick to run over, crying as she took her son and hugged him fiercely against her chest.

"Shit," Nineteen-year-old Dr. Ginger Tam swore as she hurriedly got to work stripping her _jie-jie_ out of her failed body armor while waiting for Sam and Jay to fetch the stretcher and medical equipment she'd sent them for as soon as the coast had been cleared. "Penetrating chest trauma," The slim, dark-haired young woman announced, blue eyes clinically focused in on the bloody, bubbling puncture would just above Lou's left breast, "Not too deep, though. Not enough to be the heart... what do you think, Dad? Left-side hemopneuomothorax?"

"Yes," Sixty-one-year-old Dr. Simon Tam agreed, making a mental note to be even more endlessly proud of his youngest daughter later, when Louisa didn't have a collapsed lung, "She'll need a chest tube. Can you do it?"

Snorting, Ginny took her bag from Jay and answered cockily, "Since I was five."

Feeling helplessly out of place once Ginny and Uncle Simon got to work on Lou, Jay wandered back a few shell-shocked paces as he just watched the pilot bleeding into the dirt. It wasn't long until he tripped over her discarded vest. He picked it up and suddenly he couldn't breathe either.

The armor stopped the bullet, he realized after just a brief moment of inspection. The mangled bit of lead was caught in it but the Kevlar composite had splintered inwards from the force; it wasn't the bullet that pierced Louisa's chest, it was a shard of faulty purple plating that had been spray painted black. The black paint was flaking now, and the bright shade of lavender beneath it seemed to be weeping red, both the colors leaking onto and staining Jay's hands.

He did this. It was his idea to spray paint the old Alliance-issue vests and hand them out amongst his family. He... he did this...

"Let's shoot her," Jayne suggested gruffly, madder than hell at the little slip of a woman who'd harmed his family, holding Vera against her high, pale forehead. She was just sitting there tied up in the dirt, glaring up at him defiantly but still managing to look demure with her soft, delicate features and innocent blue eyes. Gorram bitch was just like her sneaky whore of a mother.

The plan was met with murmurs of emphatic agreement from all around, from Mal and Sam especially, and Mac, too, when he walked over cradling Burne in one strong arm. In his other hand, he had Louie's pistol leveled straight in Yo-Saff-Bridge Jr.'s face. He was _mad_. None of the crew could ever remember seeing him that mad, didn't think the upbeat, laidback man could be pushed that far. But he had his wife's blood turning sticky on his fingers and his son's blood gushing out onto his shoulder and Mac was _mad_. He was just a hair-trigger away from shooting the woman responsible right between her eyes.

"STOP!!" River shrieked, drawing most of the attention towards her--not Mac's though, his was completely focused right where it was--as she came running down the last of the steep, rocky incline. She had tears streaming down her face, her bare arms and legs and feet bleeding from the myriad of scratches she suffered on her dizzying downward decent, her simple, floral-patterned cotton sundress snagged and torn. She had a sleek bolt-action sniper rifle clutched tightly in both her hands.

"STOP!! STOP!! STOP!!" She cried hysterically, gasping for breath as she collapsed to her knees a few feet away, "Girl's fault! Didn't see it! Couldn't see the monster because the monster cannot see herself! Invisible with burning green eyes! Stop the sap! Leaves are fallen from same genus!! Stop the sap or the leaves will shrivel!! Hope is turning crunchy in the sun!"

"Hey, crazy!" Jayne grunted, instantly rushing to fall down at his little wife's side and pull her into his strong arms, "It's alright! You just calm down now!"

"Go slow, Mama," Alleyne soothed as she hurried over to hug the panic-stricken reader, both Cobb girls fitting easily into Jayne's big lap. J.J. carefully took the gun from his mother's thin hands, setting it aside as he softly agreed, "You ain't makin' sense, Mama. Slow it down so you can tell us clear."

River drew in a big gasping breath, continuing to sob and tremble before she finally managed, "Squirrels must store acorns for winter! Blood must not be spilled!"

"Think that means you can't shoot her," Mal observed quietly, reaching out to take Burne from Mac, who was still furiously holding Louie's pistol on the disarmed blonde shooter in the light desert fatigues. Cautiously, the captain put a hand on top of the merc's, slowly pushing the gun down to aim at the dirt before gently prying it out of his shaking fingers.

Mac just stood there for another few moments, frozen and helpless as the bitch smirked right up into his face. He wanted to kill her so bad. It was bloodlust, pure and simple, and he'd never, ever felt it so strong before.

And then she just up and passed out, slumping over into the dirt and reminding everybody that she was bleeding rather profusely from a gunshot wound to the thigh, courtesy of one River Cobb. The genius in question shrieked, "Plug the leak! Sap must be preserved! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! She did not see it! She has made a hole in the dam and the reservoir is draining! She wants a thumb! The Lowlanders will drown if the drought comes!"

Wordlessly, Mal took off his belt and made an unnecessarily tight tourniquet around the unconscious shooter's injured thigh. Over the years, he and the rest of the crew had gotten a lot better at deciphering what River was trying to say when she got into her less than coherent fits. He was pretty sure she was saying not to let their attacker bleed to death.

"Alright, listen up," The aging captain addressed the gathered crowd, his instinct to lead kicking in without a hitch, "All the injured should be moved inside the houses. Sort 'em by most to least serious, and anyone with any doctorin' skills just jump right in and start workin' your way through." As an afterthought, he scowled down at Yo-Saff-Bridge Jr., pointing to her slight body as he declared, "She gets kept alive for now and guarded at all times. She is a sneaky, manipulative con and no one's to trust her far as they can throw her, _dong ma_?"

He got grumbles of acceptance as folks started getting to work. Two seconds later, he nearly got tackled into the dirt by Inara tearfully throwing himself into his arms. Not that he minded too much. No, sir.

Most of the injuries weren't very severe, lots of grazes, a few minor through-and-throughs. After he and Ginny were finished making Louisa comfortable, Simon came out to clean and close the wound on Burne's forehead.

"It looks more serious than it is," He assured quietly, feeling like Mac was barely listening as he sat on one of the righted picnic tables and clutched his bravely sniffling son like a life raft, "His skull was grazed a bit but it's mostly superficial damage. There shouldn't be too much of a scar."

He fixed on the last weave and a pristine white bandage and shot Burne a watery smile. "All better," The doctor assured, taking two lollipops he'd snuck from of the piñata for himself before the party started out of his pocket and presenting them to the fawn freckled six-year-old. "You were a wonderful patient," He complimented, "Now why don't you go share these with Davey while I talk to your daddy."

"Ok," Burne agreed quietly, reluctantly slipping from his father's lap and scampering off to find Davey and Auntie Jessie on the other side of the yard. He could hear that Davey was still pretty upset and thought maybe if he let the boy hold one of his dinosaurs he'd feel better. Mama would want Burne to be brave and to watch out for little Davey cuz you're always sposta look after family. That's what they were there for.

Simon took a seat beside Mac. They sat in silence for a short moment before the old man stated plainly, "She lost a lot of blood."

Mac squeezed his eyes shut tight. That wasn't what he wanted to hear.

"It was very lucky she'd already been on an I.V. all day and was very well-hydrated," The doctor continued gravely, "If she hadn't been... she's critical but stable at the moment. The vest punctured her chest cavity and came dangerously close to her heart. Her blood pressure is low and... dropping... she's type O negative and I haven't been able to find a match for a transfusion yet. I've got Sam and Inara testing everyone and all we can do in the meantime is stay positive."

"I'm gonna think some O negative thoughts, if it's all the same to you, Doc," Mac joked lifelessly. Doubling over, elbows on his knees and head in his hands, the powerful merc felt utterly helpless. He was fighting back tears as he asked fearfully, "What... what about the baby?"

"Strong and stubborn as his or her mother, it appears," Simon soothed fondly, laying a hand on the larger man's broad back, "There's been nothing to indicate the pregnancy was compromised and I don't think Lou was deprived of oxygen long enough to have done any damage to the baby or to herself."

Mac took a deep, shuddering breath.

The trio of circled ranch houses was quiet as the sun began falling behind the high western bluffs. Most of the other families had been patched up and gone home. Ginny was sewing up Yo-Saff-Bridge Jr.'s leg sans anesthetic while the captain stood over her, armed and waiting for the attacker to wake so he could set her straight about all the lies her mama'd told her. Mac was in the next room, anxiously watching his wife's chest slowly rise and fall, watching her ashen face for any signs of recovery even as the pace of the beeps from the heart monitor gradually slowed. Most of the others were just trying to keep busy while they waited and hoped and prayed with all their might.

Jay was sitting behind the house, just under the window of the room where Lou was being kept, and listening to the slow beeps from the heart monitor. He still felt like he couldn't breathe even as every next breath he took lanced like fire through his heart. It was his fault. He should've known the vests were faulty and he never should've handed them out to his family. The man of twenty-six was finding it very hard to hold back from crying out of guilt and fear.

With gentle, slow paces, Angelica Simone Tam emerged from around the stuccoed corner of the house, sweet and serene as she glowed from the twilight at her back. She didn't say a word, carefully folding her slim legs beneath her body and smoothing out her light pink skirt as she took a seat beside the clearly distraught Reynolds twin.

Jay barely acknowledged her. The last thing he needed at the moment was to once again say something stupid and make the girl he shouldn't have a crush on cry.

But Angie leaned her head against his broad shoulder, long strawberry blonde hair a sleek curtain all down his chest. "Everybody's been lookin' for you," She reported quietly, drawing comfort from the warm body pressed against her side and hopping she was comforting its owner in the same way, "Aunt 'Nara's worried and Sam looked pretty upset."

"Well, he should be," Jay responded, voice tight and dark eyes far off, "He should be gettin' ready to punch me right about now. I got it more than comin'."

Angie frowned, taking his big rough hand in both of her small ones as she scolded, "Not that kinda upset, Jay. He's real close to mountin' a search party for you... why do you deserve to be punched?"

"Deserve that and more," He murmured, "I just know Sam won't be the one to give it to me... it's my fault, Ang."

The frown on the young woman's pretty face grew deeper. "Why would you say that?" She admonished, distressed, "I don't remember you fillin' the woman's head with lies or handin' her the gun."

Jay got real quiet, light brown curls brushing his dark eyelashes. "The vests," He finally forced out, voice strained, "I... I shoulda known they were defective. They were old Alliance surplus and I ... it was my idea to paint 'em. It's all my fault."

"Jay," Angie soothed softly, squeezing his hand tighter, "You couldn't a' known. You couldn't a' predicted-"

"Louie's got a pretty gorram big hole in her chest says I shoulda!" The man snapped defensively, dead set on being miserable and not particularly appreciating Angie's efforts to interfere with that misery. He knew he shouldn't yell at her, that she was sensitive and it was gonna hurt her feelings, but he just wanted her to go away.

Instead, the little twenty-three-year-old fireball took a big ole breath to hold back the tears that were wanting to fall and angrily turned to punch Jay hard, right square in the arm.

"OW!" He whined, glaring heatedly, "What in the ruttin' hell was that for?"

"For being stupid!" Angie growled in reply, voice shaking but resolved, "You even stop to think what woulda happened if Lou hadn't had a vest on at all?"

Jay sulked silently, but didn't answer.

"The bullet caught her here," Angie reported softly, getting choked up as she reached out to lay a small, warm hand right over Jay's heart. He really couldn't help that it began beating faster. "If she hadn't been wearin' the vest," The petite mechanic continued shakily, her honey brown eyes meeting with Jay's dark ones, "It woulda went straight through her heart. We'd be plannin' a funeral right now instead a' tryin' to save her life."

Her voice hitched, the words catching in her throat as a wash of tears started coming for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

"Aw, Ang," Jay cooed all soft-like, feeling horribly guilty as he reached out to pull the sobbing young woman into his strong embrace, "Don't cry. I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make ya cry."

She clung tight to him, clung tightly to keep from being swept away by the fear. Neither expected Angie to suddenly sit up and kiss Jay right on the lips.

It was soft and sweet, just like he'd always imagined. She tasted like strawberries and trembled in his arms, tears clinging to her wet lashes.

But he pulled back after only a moment, seizing her roughly by the shoulders and holding her out at arm's length. "This is wrong," He groaned, even while his gut was tightening and burning in a manner that highly disagreed, "You're almost my sister! I-I shouldn't feel this way about you!"

"But you do," Angie argued plainly, taking a big gulp of courage before shifting to straddle Jay's lap. "And I feel the same," She confessed shyly, her long strawberry hair falling to hide them both from the world as Jay's hands absentmindedly drifted to rest on her slender hips, "So how could that be wrong?"

He looked thoughtful and confused, making Angie pout and grumble, "'Sides, I'm _not_ your sister, and I'm _also_ not the dumb little girl everyone thinks I am."

"I don't think you're dumb," Jay blurted out, getting dizzied when Angie turned her sweet smile on just for him, "I think you're beautiful." Before he had the time to blink, to think too much and curse his mouth for getting away from him again, he found his mouth otherwise occupied.

"You got a good heart, Jay," Angie whispered between slow, gentle kisses, "Whatever happens, it was in the right place."

He almost cried, experiencing so much, all at once, and with the beautiful strawberry angel finally in his arms... that kinda thing could make a man all kinds a' sentimental and that particular woman made that particular man feel like the world was a much kinder, fairer place than he knew it to be.

"Think Lou'll punch me when she finds out the truth about the vests?" He asked, able to let himself believe in a happy ending.

Angie smiled against his smooth, dry lips, answering, "Well, you do have it comin'... I'll be sure and tell her not in the face." She kissed him once more before casually adding, "I'm gonna need your mouth in good workin' order."

Beneath the tall apple tree, in the dwindling light of the setting sun, River Cobb was seated in the very center of a small circle she'd made out of the small rectangles of government-issue plastic. She was crying, had been for awhile, and no one, not her husband or children or brother, seemed to be able to calm her down.

She was incoherent, but Rosie, Alleyne, and Jayne Jr. were sitting just outside the circle, patiently watching, listening to her words.

"So many names," The tiny old woman whispered sadly, gazing out at the dozens of false I.D.'s they'd pulled off the unconscious shooter. All had the same picture of the pretty, petite blonde but all had different names and information.

"Too many selves," River choked, gnarled hands stopping just short of touching one card, "Never received a self all her own. A numbered statistic when she should've been a blessing. Doesn't know the truth. Seized the first offered counterfeit, wanted to believe. Wanted identity. Jealous. Eyes were green when she ended the equine effigy. Always wanted one of her own. Never got one. Wanted the happy family. Never got one. Couldn't be part of ours thought rightfully hers. Thrown away like trash. Did not comprehend exclusion."

A sob racked River's thin body.

"So many selves... lovingly built but not enough, not real, don't love back because they weren't _given_ with love..." She mourned sadly, closing her eyes as she briefly touched each of the circled rectangles, "Justine Beelze, devil's justice... Megaera Enola, lonely grudge... Laverna Veles, divine thief... Morrigan Tiassale, forgotten terror... Zareh Ferro, iron tears... Elysia Kore, lightning-struck maiden..."

Just as Rosie and the twins began to realize that their aunt and mother was reading the fake names off the I.D.'s, River's dark eyes flew open in a panic. She fell over screaming into the dirt, her whole body jolting and convulsing like she'd grabbed hold of a live wire.

"Daddy!" Rosie cried out, rushing to hold her aunt, "Daddy! Help!"

"What is it?" Simon demanded as he came running out of the house, "What's wrong?"

"Mama," Alleyne whimpered, the girl's big blue eyes filled to the brim with tears as she and J.J. gently restrained their mother, "We can't... I ain't never seen her this bad..."

"No needles for the child of the damned. No jagged voids. Wanted a smooth pebble where a dangerous mountain stood," River babbled, lying mostly still but still twitching a bit as her dark gaze froze straight up into the dark sky, "Currents. Thought if they held the wolf cub under long enough the currents would wash away the sheepskin, the parts that make her want to hunt, kill, eat, survive. Drowned on mouthfuls of hard, bitter rubber. Choke. Smoke. Erosion. Metamorphosis. Wolf cub to worker ant. But the treatment did not take. The mountain remains but nothing will grow on its slopes, nutrients leeched from the soil and never replenished. Desolate. Barren. Lonely. Cracked and broken. She is so broken."

"River," Simon soothed, carefully checking his sister's rapid pulse and pinprick pupils, "River, can you hear me?"

She shivered, mumbling, "Another broken doll added to the toy chest. No one will play with her. They tried to make her smooth so she became too sharp to touch."

"DAD!!" Ginny's voice came from inside the house, followed seconds later by her short, slim body in the doorway. She had a look of horror on her pale face as she yelled, "Lou's blood pressure's crashing and her heart rate's off the charts! She's about to arrest!"

"_Ta ma-de_!!" The old man cursed, jumping to his feet and trying to rush back in. River grabbed his arm though, still deceptively strong even in her advancing age as she sat up and held him right where he was.

Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, but her voice was clear. "Take spare parts from the broken doll," She stated flatly, urgently, "Parts that won't be missed to save _Serenity_'s daughter, her lamb." Her hand went slack and so did her body, falling limply into the strong, waiting arms of Jayne Jr.

"We got her, Uncle Simon," The boy of just twelve assured, already hefting his unconscious mother off the ground and making to carry her off for home as Alleyne and Rosie flitted nervously on either side of him, "Go help Louie."

And he did, not allowing himself to pause in surprise when he saw the pair of feral mustangs had wandered back, that they were emerging from some far off brush and following along after the Cobb twins. Guess River'd been right about honesty breeding loyalty.

Louie's skin was a sickly, bleached mockery of her usual healthy bronze glow, the myriad of freckles across her nose and cheeks standing out sharply as her bandaged chest heaved and she struggled for breath. She looked so... innocent. She wasn't, not since she lost her mother and then most of herself in the war, and it was killing Mac that his wife was going to die looking like a genuine angel.

Angel's weren't supposed to die.

"Tachycardic at one-thirty, B.P.'s sixty over twenty-five," Ginny reported solemnly, feeling helpless as she held her stethoscope to Lou's bandaged chest. It killed the brunette that there was _nothing_ more she could do; it enraged her that rim worlds _still_ didn't have adequate medical facilities and supplies. If they were on a central planet... "She's fading," The young woman said, voice catching around her anger, resentment, and fear.

"No, no, no," Mac insisted, crying openly now because he just didn't care not to, "No, do something! Anything! Don't let her die!"

"I-I-" Simon stuttered, wiping a thin hand down the entirety of his old wrinkled face as he wracked his brain for something, anything, one last chance. A miracle.

A loud groan from the other room made everyone jump, Mac's temper immediately flaring as he squeezed tight to Louie's cold hand

The something they'd all been praying for suddenly clicked into Simon's head. "Ginny," He demanded, already running back grab the gurney and yank it into the room, "Did you check Junior's blood type?"

The girl frowned and nearly hit herself in the forehead. "No," She said, having caught in an instant and already halfway through readying the supplies, "I didn't even... you think she's a match?"

"Your Aunt River seems to," The old doctor answered as he busily inserted needles in all the places they needed to go, "At least I hope that's what she's been trying to tell us. I'll test her quickly and you be ready to do a rapid transfusion."

"What's goin' on?" Mal demanded as he came stomping in, a little annoyed that the prisoner had been so suddenly whisked out from under his watchful eyes, right when she was about to wake, too.

"This bitch might match Louie's blood type," Mac growled, wiping his wet green eyes with the back of his hand and still clinging tight to his wife, trying to find comfort by nervously toying with her bullet-dented wedding ring. They'd get through this. They always did so they had to.

"If she is O negative," Simon reported smartly, pricking the slowly awakening woman's arm, "It would prove without a doubt that you are not her father, Captain. Your blood type is homozygous A negative. Paternity would be impossible under any circumstances."

Nodding along, Mal contributed snappishly, "Ya, cuz a' that, and also cuz I never laid a hand on her ruttin' mother! Girl said she's only twenty-five, right? Ain't seen hide nor hair a' Yo-Saff since nearly two years 'fore Lou was born. She'd have to be _older_ than Lou to be able to be my kid. Since she ain't, she..." He blinked owlishly, finishing, "ain't."

"W-What?" The blonde stuttered, weak but finally conscious, "That can't... no... she told me-"

"She lied!" Mal barked, "That's what she was best at!" Had Yo-Saff-Bridge Jr. not opened fire on his family, he probably would've felt real sorry for the way her already cold blue eyes went suddenly dead.

"She's a match," Simon reported, nodding to his daughter as they instantly sprang into action to quickly transfuse some of Junior's blood to Louisa. "And Bella Sanzmerci wasn't your mother's real name," The doctor added, a clinical, maliceless edge to his voice, like he was delivering a negative diagnosis to a cancer patient, "I didn't realize until a few minutes ago why the name sounded so familiar. It's another pseudonym, from an Earth-That-Was poem by John Keats called 'La Belle Dame Sans Merci.' It's French for 'the beautiful lady without pity.'"

Hardly paying attention to the blood draining out of her body, Junior gave a bitter little laugh. "Figures," She choked, eyes drifting shut as she got lightheaded from the blood she had already lost and was still losing, "No one's ever cared about me so I don't know why I let myself believe... with her dying breaths, all my own mother wanted out of me was an assassin to settle some old score and I was too stupid to see the truth..."

Her eyes drifted shut. She faded into the nothingness she'd always been, wishing to be put out of the cold void that made up her existence. Death was better than being so completely alone, without even a real name under which to live her life.

That night on Haven was one of the longest in anyone's memories. Even after Sam finally found Jay and Angie behind the house, asleep and wrapped up in each others' arms, even after River stopped screaming and sobbing in Jayne's protective, worried embrace, even after Burne managed to convince Davey that the t-rex would protect them from anymore bad people coming to hurt them so it was safe for both to go to bed, even after Louisa's heart slowed to a more relaxed pace and a faint hint of color crept back into her cheeks, time stretched on endlessly.

When the sun spilled down from the mountains in the east, J.J. and Alleyne were already up, already on horseback, already tending to their chores and picking up some extra ones so their exhausted parents could sleep in. The twins hadn't been surprised when the mustangs wandered back the night before, nor that they all found such fast trust in one another. Together, they lassoed and corralled Rex and the other big bulls, they took most of the herd out to pasture to graze and made it to town in time to stand in for their daddy at a meeting they knew he'd forgotten in all the excitement.

The buyer they met with, one Mr. Charles Lansing, was real impressed that the twins were so polite, well-spoken, intelligent, and responsible. He did business with the Cobb ranch for many years after because he figured any man who could raise a pair of fine children like that was the kind of man he didn't mind giving his money to.

Late in the afternoon, the houses were still fairly quiet. Louisa groaned as she woke up in what she recognized as one of the rooms in Uncle Mal and Aunt Inara's place. Her head was throbbing, chest aching, mouth tasting like she'd licked the gorram septic. It was a pretty familiar feel.

"Who shot me?" She demanded hoarsely, hating that her lungs could barely tolerate the amount of air needed to pose the question. Took all her considerable willpower just to keep from passing out again.

"What turned out to definitely not be the captain's illegitimate love-child," Mac responded helpfully, still by his wife's side because he'd never leave it. What Lou liked to refer to as his making-a-joke-even-though-I-know-shouldn't-because-I-have-absolutely-no-self-control smile split his handsome features. She smirked back, in awe of the way he could always pick up her spirits, even when she'd just been shot by definitely not the captain's illegitimate love-child.

"Burne?" Lou inquired worriedly.

"Naught but a scratch, gosling," The stocky blonde merc assured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against her plump, wonderful, warm lips, "The scar'll be gettin' him girls for many years to come."

Snorting as she weakly (well, weakly for her anyways, but still pretty gorram hard) reached out to smack his shoulder.

The room got really quiet then, real tense and anxious.

"What about..." The hardened soldier posed softly, already shutting her eyes and preparing to be devastated by hearing she'd lost another baby.

But Mac stopped her by leaning down to place a tender kiss on her still flat stomach, grinning up at her with tears of joy shining in his earthy green eyes as the blonde assured, "Too damn strong and stubborn to die. Just like her mama."

Relief poured over the injured pilot, bringing a smile to her lips even as her eyelids began to droop. "Good to hear," She murmured tiredly, already slipping off again, "Get some sleep, husband. You look like _go-se_."

While Sam was thrilled Jay and Angie were finally together, so they'd hopefully quit making eyes and playing irritating games and putting everyone else--especially him--in the middle, he was less than thrilled that that meant he got stuck guarding the prisoner all by his lonesome while they... did stuff he didn't want to think about. Sure, he got to hold a gun and look all menacing, just like Uncle Jayne had taught him to do from the age of three onward, but there was something about Yo-Saff-Bridge Jr. that was really truly unsettling and mighty... irksome.

Aside from her shooting up the twins' birthday party, that is.

She was just sitting there on the gurney, looking helpless and pathetic and depressed, and, the Lord help him, he was starting to feel sorry for her.

"You get anything to eat?" He asked a bit hesitantly, but still trying to keep that forceful, captainy tone he'd learned from his daddy.

Very slowly, Junior picked her teary blue eyes up out of her lap. She pouted guiltily, picking at the gauze around her slim right thigh with cuffed hands as she quietly responded, "I don't think anyone is too concerned with whether or not I'm hungry. Can't blame them."

Sam frowned, digging into his pocket for a protein bar that he tossed onto her lap. "Can't have you starvin' 'fore the Feds get here," He teased, winking flirtatiously. He always was a bit of a charmer, possessing natural charisma from both his parents.

Junior snatched up the food and hurriedly tore into it. "Thank you," She stated softly, past the mouthful of chewed protein. After a hard swallow, the blonde gave him an unsure half-smile and asked, "So the Feds are on their way, huh?"

"Well, you did shoot up a kids' birthday party," The elder Reynolds twin answered, tilting his chair against the wall as he rearranged the shotgun across his lap, "And, what with Louie pullin' through and all, it's pro'ly in the interest a' your own personal safety to be very far away from here and in a _very_ secure government facility before she's up and about and able to aim proper."

He didn't expect her laugh, high and tinkling like bells as it fired a blush high on his strong cheekbones... what the gorram hell?

"You're cute," Junior claimed sweetly, still munching on the protein bar, her expression soft and adoring, "Makes me wish we woulda met under different circumstances." She gave a dismal sigh, "Don't matter none though. I spent most of my life in 'secure government facilities.' Expected to end up back there someday. And at least it ain't the Alliance in charge no more."

Her involuntarily shiver and haunted appearance gave Sam a bad feeling. He'd heard his whole life what the Alliance had done to his Aunt River and didn't doubt they'd done something just as terrible to Junior. "They cut your brain open?" He asked gently.

"Nothin' like that," The petite woman answered, her gaze dropping as she suddenly became very interested in the protein bar wrapper, "It was... it was a criminal rehabilitation program where they were tryin' to use electroshock to counteract some sociopath gene they'd identified in all the subjects. My mama was one of 'em and... don't rightly know how I fit in anymore, but, once they got me and realized I carried the same gene, I guess they decided that if they started early on shockin' me, maybe the gene would never activate... wanted to make me a productive member of society, I guess."

"_He chu-sheng za-jiao de zang-huo_!" Sam spat, clearly incensed as his rage at those monsters burned in his gut, "That just ain't right!"

Junior shook her head violently, thin, bird-like shoulders starting to heave as her voice got all wobbly, "They _were_ right though. I-I'm a bad person. There's something... _wrong_ with me, deep inside, and it's not a thing I can fight or hope to change."

"That just ain't true," Sam assured kindly, standing and taking a few steps closer to the bed to offer the crying woman a clean white handkerchief out of his pocket, "Ever heard of nature versus nurture? Free-will? You're your own person. You don't gotta be nothin' you don't wanna, Junior, and that includes whatever your genes and the Alliance tried to make you."

She sniffled but laughed lightly, finally peering up at him through a thick mane of hair the color of wet straw. "Junior," She stated aloud, eyes big and open as she dabbed at them daintily, "I like that... what's your name?"

Grinning, the man of twenty-six stated, "Sam Reynolds, Miss Junior... think I'm starin' to agree with you 'bout that different circumstances notion."

"Ya," She whispered softly, regretfully, "Too bad..."

Quicker than he could blink, the lithe woman _arched_ up off the gurney in the most sinfully distracting way and wrapped both her deceivingly muscular thighs tight around Sam's neck. He _hated_ that he'd lost control of the situation but, at the same time, had to admire the skill with which she played him. Putting one over on Solomon Derrial Reynolds wasn't an easy thing to do.

"Sorry, Sam," He heard her coo as she slammed him down and _squeezed_ until he couldn't draw breath, until his vision grew dim, "You been real sweet, but I ain't ever goin' back. Rather die than let the Feds take me." Right before he passed out, he could remember admiring her determination... and also being pretty thrilled to realize that his face was pressed right up against her crotch. Gorram, she smelled _good_...

His mama and daddy were standing over him when he woke up, two blurred faces of concern swimming somewhere between the white spots floating through his eyes and the painfully bright overhead infirmary lights.

"Welcome back, _bao bei_," His mama cooed, fondly stroking the dark fringe away from his forehead, "How do you feel?"

"Uh..." He gaped dumbly, rubbing his sore neck and throat, "Still alive so that's good, I reckon."

Inara kissed his cheek and agreed, "Definitely."

"Gorram fool boy," His daddy barked, stern but more relieved than angry as he reached out to smack Sam upside his throbbing skull, "What part of 'sneaky, manipulative con' did you fail to understand? How the hell'd you let Junior get away?"

"Uh..." Sam gaped once more, racking his brain for a suitably non-incriminating version of the truth, "I... let my guard down, I guess. She choked me out with her legs and musta run off."

"Musta," Mal agreed, rolling his eyes even as his voice betrayed deep concern, "Just be thankful this muck-up didn't get you killed! Boy, if I ever catch you doin' something so stupid ever again, I'm just gonna shoot you myself and get it over with, _dong ma_?"

Sam nodded, carefully pulling himself up out of the infirmary bed and walking off towards home and a good shower. "And I wouldn't go near Lou for awhile, either!" His daddy added with a hint of good humor, "She's liable to be pretty upset about this and already got her pistol returned!"

The man's neck was pretty bruised but other than that he had no visible injuries. Truth be told, he was a little surprised Junior didn't kill him. But, then again, maybe he was underestimating her. All of her their conversation couldn't have been an act, right? There weren't no faking that kind of trauma and sadness. And he had been nice to her. She seemed to appreciate that...

He peeled his shirt over his head and turned to face the small mirror above the bathroom sink. He nearly wet himself when he saw the writing on his stomach, done in what looked like lipstick going from sternum to bellybutton. It was a shade of red that matched that of the lip print right on his prominent right hip bone. The words were hard to read, being backwards in the reflection and all, but Sam deciphered them fairly quick:

_It's a big 'verse, Sam Reynolds,_

_but I'll keep my eye out for you_.

_Here's hoping we get a shot at those _

_different circumstances someday_.

_Junior_.

Suddenly and inexplicably weak at the knees, it was all Sam could do to lean his back against the wall to keep the rest of his lightheaded body upright. After what felt like hours of shell-shocked confusion, a big grin spread over his face and he whispered, "Gorram."

xxxxxxxxxx

Translations -

bao bei - sweetheart

xie-xie - thank you

xiao-xiong - teddy bear

chou-biao-zi - stinking whore

go-se - crap

jie-jie - older sister

dong ma - understand

ta ma-de - goddamnit

he chu-sheng za-jiao de zang-huo - filthy fornicators of livestock

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Author's notes -

Daiyu - Chinese name meaning "black jade."

Huojin - Chinese name meaning "fire metal."

Hemopneumothorax - a medical term for a combination of the conditions pneumothorax (air in the chest cavity) and hemothorax (blood in the chest cavity). Air and blood put pressure on the lungs and cause collapse. Most often the result of a penetrating chest wound and treated with a tube inserted into the pleural space to suction blood and release air and blood from outside the lungs.

Justine - name meaning "just."

Beelze - reference to Beelzebub, a common name for the devil.

Megaera - one of the Furies of Greek Mythology, the cause of jealousy, envy, and grudges.

Enola - alone spelled backwards.

Laverna - the Roman goddess of illegally obtained money, patroness of thieves, con men, and charlatans.

Veles - Slavic god of earth, waters, and the underworld, associated with dragons, cattle, magic, musicians, wealth, and trickery.

Morrigan - a triple goddess from Irish mythology whose name means "terror" or "phantom queen," associated with war and death on the battlefield and sometimes appearing as a carrion crow.

Tiassale - African name meaning "it is forgotten."

Zareh - Armenian name meaning "tears."

Ferro - Italian name meaning "iron."

Elysia - Greek name meaning "lightning-struck."

Kore - Greek myth name borne by Persephone, the queen of the underworld; means "maiden."

Tachycardic - abnormally rapid beating of the heart defined as a resting heart rate of over 100 beats per minute.

"La Belle Dame Sans Merci" - 1819 poem by John Keats that describes a knight led astray and doomed by a beautiful woman he meets in his travels.


	4. Strength

Part 4 - Strength

Rosie told their story to the 'verse.

She was only twenty-four when the book came out, a doctor of literature, mathematics, physics, philosophy, and political science who'd been publishing biannually since she was nineteen. Most of her works were complicated academic treatises but, one day, she woke up with the sudden desire to put the heroics of her whole family into words.

_Family of Heroes_ was the title she began with in mind, followed shortly thereafter by the perennial favorite _Big Damn Heroes_.

It was Ginny who persuaded her to change the title. Her little sister was twenty-two and very busy with her trauma surgery residency at St. Lucy's on Ariel, working ninety hour weeks but still happy to take the time to discuss what she thought of the idea. Like always, the youngest Tam had nothing but encouragement but did suggest Rosie think of another title.

"Everyone only jokes about bein' big damn heroes," Ginny told her as they were sitting in the mostly abandoned hospital cafeteria in the early hours of the morning in mid-January. The brunette had heavy midnight circles beneath her tired cerulean eyes and Rosie thought she could see phantoms of dried crimson all over the front of her pale, immaculate blue scrubs. But there was no real blood. Ginny changed before their meeting and was just sipping her coffee. Rosie knew she sometimes saw things that weren't really there and had trained herself hard to be able to discern the difference.

"Uncle Mal gets embarrassed and uncomfortable when other people actually call him a hero," Ginny observed wisely, stretching the stiff muscles in her slim, athletic body, "Louie, too. If you're really gonna go through with writin' this, then it would be a kindness not to call them heroes outright... but I do think the idea is real shiny. And, besides, it's about time for the 'verse to know the true story, know how much of their lives they owe to so few and what was sacrificed to give it to 'em."

Rosie smiled, big sparkly brown eyes gazing off into nowhere as she wove a long lock of titian red hair through her fingers. "You're right," She murmured quietly, "No one in our family considers themselves the heroes they are. Uncle Mal and Louie chose to be soldiers, but they didn't fight in search of glory. They fought to protect something they both felt was bigger than them, bigger than right and wrong and so inherently valuable to the whole human race that it was worth dying for... that's an entirely different breed of heroics and it wouldn't be fair or accurate not to set it apart."

"Exactly," Ginny chirped, delightedly eating a little cup of chocolate-flavored goop, "Man, Dad was right. They really do have the best pudding ever in hospital cafeterias. I thought he was just bein' weird when he asked me to send him a case but, gorram, I could live off this stuff."

Rosie waved _Serenity_ from the hospital lobby, grinning broadly when Jay Reynolds answered. He was looking tired and sleep deprived as he cradled his fussy newborn daughter against his chest. "Hey, Jay," She cooed sweetly, biting her lip and angling to get a look at her brand new brunette niece's angelic little face, "How's Serra doin'?"

"Determined to turn me and her mama into insomniacs," He answered with a bleary but proud smirk as he bounced her gently and bent to tenderly kiss her forehead, "Good to hear from ya, Rosie. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I have a new project," She answered brightly, in awe of the soft carnation pink glow she could see surrounding the father and daughter, the utter devotion visible on her brother's handsome face. He was almost unrecognizable from the loud-mouthed, hot-headed troublemaker she'd grown up with, but, at the same time, she'd always known he had it in him to love so deeply and passionately. He had a good heart.

"I'm going to spend some time at home researching," Rosie continued, willing herself not to get lost in her visions, "I was hoping for a ride. Are you guys going to be on the central planets any time soon?"

Yawning hugely as he scratched at his light amber curls, Jay leaned off to check the itinerary before reporting, "Uh... not us, but Lou's takin' _Rapture_ to Londinium in a week 'n a half to restock our medical supplies. I'm sure she wouldn't mind pickin' you up."

"Excellent," Rosie chirped happily, "Tell her I'll meet her there. In the meantime, say hi to everyone for me, and you, Serra Hazel, you take good care of your mama and daddy... especially your daddy. He needs constant supervision so I hope you're up for it, _bao bei_."

The girl kicked her tiny feet and swung her tiny fists, whiskey brown eyes shining as she began to shriek. Rosie just barely caught Jay's heartwarming smirk before she cut the transmission.

The next week and a half passed in a blur as Rosie put all her affairs in order and readied herself for a long trip. She closed up her humble apartment on Sihnon and packed only what she'd need; it was mostly just empty journals and a lightweight word processor, along with, of course, presents for all of the _Serenity_ children. With that taken care of, she hopped the first shuttle to Londinium.

She was ready and waiting by the time she saw _Rapture_ touching down at the docks, bouncing excitedly just outside the hatch as it opened. As soon as it did, Washburne Malcolm Machado came bounding out, the blonde carrying his baby sister, Anaya Maylea Machado, on his back.

"Auntie Rosie!!" Burne cried out happily, the strapping young boy jumping up for a great big hug.

"Ooof!" The lithe redhead grunted as she struggled to hold him off the ground, "Oh my goodness! You grew so much since the last time I saw you!" A mischievous little fawn freckled doll face, complete with a head of golden blonde ringlets, appeared over his shoulder. "You, too, 'Naya," The young woman cooed, leaning down to rub noses with the playful pixie, "And, if I'm remembering correctly, you have a birthday coming up. How old are you going to be, _bao bei_?"

"Two!" Anaya spouted brightly, emerald green eyes shining as her pretty pink lips parted to show of a row of gleaming pearl baby teeth, "I was born on Valentine's Day! That's my birthday! Daddy said he's gonna help me build a snowman cuz we're gonna be on St. Albans for it and they have snow and I ain't never seen snow before!"

"Ya you have, _mei-mei_," Burne corrected, making the little girl squeal as he swung up over his shoulder and caught her in the thick arms he was obviously in the process of inheriting from his very muscular father. "We were on St. Albans a few months after you were born," He reported, comfortably cuddling his sister and pressing his forehead against hers, "Daddy built you a snowman then, too, and we all had a big snowball fight. We played boys verse girls."

Pouting, Anaya responded, "I don't 'member any a' that, Bonehead." The nickname Bone, born of young David Frye Tam's inability to pronounce 'Burne,' had stuck throughout the years and had been inevitably perverted by Washburne's bratty baby sister.

"Well, you were real little," Burne reported helpfully. He smirked, then showed off his lightning-fast reflexes. Rosie barely blinked and Burne managed to snatch both his sister's ankles, smiling as he swung her upside-down, back and forth like a pendulum. She giggled as her flower-print cotton dress fell down over her face to reveal thin legs and plain white undies, a flat, freckled chest and a complete freedom from any sort of embarrassment.

Both children glowed gold. It was amazing just how devoted the siblings were to one another. Rosie could tell just by looking at his face that Burne would move the stars for his 'Naya and little Anaya would always go out of her way to light up her Bonehead's day.

"Come on, you two," Louie's voice boomed out of the hatch just before the bronzed warrior woman stepped into view. She had a fond smile playing on her full lips even as she scolded, "No monkeyin' around. Burne, get Auntie Rosie's bags stowed and then you're goin' with your daddy to pick up the supply crates."

Nodding dutifully, the boy set his sister down on her feet and got to his work, barely pausing when his stocky father bounded by and gave his hair an affectionate tussle.

"Heya, Rosie," Mac greeted brightly, pulling her into a great big bear hug and pecking her swiftly on the forehead, "How's life?"

"Can't complain," She smiled in return, not even the least bit insulted when the man got distracted by his wife walking past. Lou was pretty focused on her usual visual inspection of the vessel; Mac was pretty focused on his usual visual inspection of the woman he'd been absolutely crazy about for goin' on about fifteen years. During that entire time, Lou had always had the power to catch his attention, even when she wasn't trying to, even when all she really wanted was punch him in the head.

But they loved each other so much. They were devoted and gathered seemingly limitless strength from their relationship, even if it hardly made sense at first glance. Mac was bright and goofy and actually surprisingly lighthearted and naïve as far as mercenaries went--he was in the process of negotiating a title change from merc to head of security. Lou was dark and focused, scarred from her time in the war, untrusting and even paranoid at times... damaged... But they completed each other in a way that made them both better people, made them both whole and happy.

"Everythin' looks good," Lou remarked as she walked over, leaning an arm against her husband's strong shoulder and bending to give him a peck on the cheek, "Lock her up good 'n tight when you leave." She picked up her beautiful daughter, kissing her, too, before letting the little pixie swing herself upside down in the embrace.

Mac frowned, "Where you goin', gosling?"

Lou rolled her eyes, reporting, "Husband, I done told you we were gonna have a girls' lunch today while you're pickin' up the crates." The pilot turned to grin at Rosie, adding, "I ain't seen my _mei-mei_ in near a year. It's time to get caught up proper."

The stocky blonde merc continued to frown even as he agreed, "Alright, but you watch yourself. I don't trust no core worlds and I don't want nothin' happenin' to my girls." He bent himself nearly in half to brush a tender kiss across Anaya's upside-down nose, his hard features visibly melting as she beamed back. "Be good for Mama," Mac instructed very plainly, "Keep her from gettin' in any gun fights while I ain't there backin' her up."

"Yes, Daddy," She chirped, rolling her pretty emerald eyes, "I know the rules."

Rosie giggled into her hand.

About an hour later, she and Lou were sat across from each other in a small street-side diner, enjoying a lively conversation over the first real food Lou'd seen in over a month. Anaya was on her mama's lap, helping herself to handfuls of real potato fries and seeming perfectly content to be in the middle of the reunion.

"You actually wanna write a book about us all?" The retired Air Force First Lieutenant questioned, tone caught somewhere between shock, dread, and annoyance.

Rosie nodded, munching on her crisp salad as she explained, "It's a tale that needs to be told. That's the sort of thing I do."

"But..." Louisa gaped, "But..."

Sticking to what worked, the petite redhead gazed across the table, her wide, sparkly brown eyes going misty. That was all it took. Lou swore at the top of her lungs, making Anaya, who never had gotten as well-trained as Burne when it came to covering her own ears, snicker. "Fine," The woman grumbled into her meal, "Ain't like I can talk you outta it anyhow. Just don't make me sound like some gorram superhero. I only did what I had to."

Rosie smiled, soothing, "Don't worry. I'm not writing a story, I'm telling one. There's a big difference... our family's part of history, you know? I..." She trailed off for a few moments, "I'm going all the way back, Miranda and everything."

"About what happened to my daddy, you mean," Lou drawled flatly, not quite sure how to react. Rosie could see the warring emotions on her absolutely stoic face. The pilot had always been told she was a lot like her daddy, but she'd never met him; he'd been stolen from her unjustly. It was a hard fact.

"Ya," Rosie answered softly, "The whole shebang... are you going to be ok with that?"

After a brief moment, Lou gave a reluctant nod. "It's pro'ly 'bout time," She said solemnly, "And I gotta admit, I'm a might curious my ownself. I've heard the stories more than anyone but... not in a long while and I can't be sure how much got left out. I always got the feelin' Mama and Uncle Mal and everybody were tryin' to spare me the details, 'specially when I was a youngun."

"I'm not going to leave anything out," Rosie assured quietly, "This is the real deal, the first war all the way up through the second and maybe even a bit after. That's why I'm going home. I'm interviewing the old crew and... I was kind of hoping you'd talk to me about what you went through, too."

"No," Lou flatly refused, tightening her hold on her daughter, blue eyes growing haunted and hurt as the thin scar cutting from right brow to cheekbone suddenly seemed much more prominent, "Not a gorram chance in hell."

Anaya giggled again, mashing a fry with big open-mouthed chomps as she parroted, "Not a gorram chance in hell!"

"Shush, _nu-er_," Lou scolded noncommittally, glaring at Rosie in the way Rosie had expected she would, "You know your daddy don't like hearin' you cuss."

"He can't hear me," Anaya insisted peevishly, scrunching up her nose as she tilted her head back to frown up at her mama, "He's at the hospital with Burne."

"No cussin'," Louisa reaffirmed, giving the girl a very pointed look.

"But you do," She argued, seeming so much older than just almost-two.

"I'm allowed," Her mama answered haughtily, once again glaring across at Rosie, "I fought a war for that very right."

"Ain't fair," Anaya grumbled, content to sulk through the remainder of their uncomfortably silent lunch.

By the time they got back, Mac and Burne had also returned. The two blondes were wrestling playfully on the cargo bay floor, laughing and joking loudly, twice as loud when Anaya came flying into the middle of the melee. Louisa watched fondly for a few moments, the older woman's hard face tender and loving at the sight of her family, luminous gunmetal and deep, worn bronze surrounding her strong body, tinged only around the edges with the dark crimson that Rosie had seen threatening to drown her big sister when she returned home from the horrors of war.

A message from _Serenity_ was waiting for them, recorded on the control panel. After arriving on the bridge with Rosie, Lou pushed a button and Jessie's face flashed onto the vid screen Her brown eyes were filled with tears. "_They took 'em_!!" She sobbed hysterically, desperately, "_Oh, God, Louie_! _They took 'em_!"

The recording went dead.

_Rapture_ was airborne in less than ten minutes, locked onto _Serenity_'s distress beacon and barreling at full burn towards the nearby moon of Liann Jiun. Nearly a full day later, the Seraph was flying in low over a canyon and surveying the damaged Firefly. The communications and takeoff equipment were trashed, explaining why Louie hadn't been able to get a wave through.

No sooner had Mac opened the bay door than Rosie saw Jessie come barreling over with little Davey on her hip. The dark-skinned redhead was getting a little big for it--he'd be five in May and was tall for his age--but Mac had previously confessed a suspicion that neither he nor his mama were going to stop the practice until she physically couldn't lift the boy. Jessie struck everyone as the type to hit the weights hard just for the extreme pleasure of still being able to carry her baby boy well into his adult years. He was her pride and joy, more preciously coveted than any gem could be. He gave her the strength to go on at a time when she didn't think she could.

"Oh, Louie! Thank God!" Jessie cried out, hurling herself roughly into Louisa's powerful arms and nearly succeeding in knocking the tall soldier right into the dirt, "I-I didn't know what to do! We got back from town and everything was wrecked up!! We waited hours and hours and Sam and Jay never came home from the drop!! I'm so worried!! What if somethin' happened to 'em? What if the people who hurt _Serenity_ got 'em?"

"Just calm down a sec," Louie soothed stiffly, patting Jessie's trembling back, gently liberating Davey from his mama's tight grasp and sending the boy off towards Burne and Naya with an affectionately light kick in the pants, "No use gettin' worked up 'til we know for sure what happened... you tried the comms?"

"All the equipment's out!" Jessie sniffled, heartbroken, "Whoever did this wrecked it up good! Wasn't no random smash-up! They knew how to strand us here proper! I fried three circuit boards just jerry-riggin' the cortex up enough to send you that wave! I-I been tryin' to fix everything, but it'll take _days_!! And Angie-" The woman cut herself off with a low wail, smothering her wet, red face against Lou's brown coat. Her next words were muffled but audible, "Angie won't say nothin'! Just sits on the couch holdin' onto Serra like she's 'bout to get snatched any second, starin' off and not talkin'!"

"It's ok, Jes," Louisa soothed, strong and steady as always, "It's ok. We're gonna take care a' this. Everything'll be back to normal 'fore you can spit." Still holding onto her hysterical sister, the pilot turned to the others present and ordered, "Husband, get the comm frequencies the twins were usin' and try 'em on our equipment. Let me know if you get through. If you don't, try trackin' 'em. Rosie, you see to Angie and Serra while Jessie shows me what's been wrecked up. Burne, baby, take Naya and Davey inside _Rapture_ and keep 'em from gettin' into trouble."

As usual, the younger pair had already found trouble and was bickering heatedly. Over what was anyone's guess but the matter at the heart of things always seemed to be Burne. They constantly competed and fought for his affection and attention. The older boy was oblivious, however, and constantly puzzled as to why his brother and sister didn't get along. He loved them both like crazy and couldn't see a reason for them not to feel the same about each other.

Anaya was spoiled. That was the pure, simple truth. Mac spoiled her plumb rotten and, through that, she'd begun to develop a sense of... entitlement. It wasn't new dresses or expensive toys that the girl desired; it was her brother. He was _hers_ and she didn't like anyone touching what was hers.

Davey, on the other hand, just plain idolized Burne. He was older, wiser, smart and strong. He had a mama _and_ a daddy, and Davey could see just how much they both loved him. It wasn't that the dark-skinned boy was lacking love on _Serenity_; it was that he was patching up a hole he didn't quite understand and needed all the love he could grab to do it proper. Burne was a big part of that, the big brother, and he was not above bickering with a toddler in order to keep his big brother close.

Rosie couldn't stick around too long to ponder over the unique dynamic. She had a feeling that it would eventually settle itself one way or another and she had Angie to attend to. Her sister wasn't difficult to find; Serra's wailing drew Rosie along into the common area where Angie was seated on the couch, holding tightly to her distressed daughter and staring off into nowhere. In Rosie's eyes, a pane of strawberry colored glass hung before the strawberry blonde, shot through with violent delicate cracks that didn't used to be there.

Angie was the sister who saw the world through the brilliant red glass, who always looked for and saw the good in everyone, who couldn't understand or handle pain, cruelty, loss.

But glass wasn't that strong of a thing and losing Jay would break her.

"Ang," Rosie cooed softly, carefully taking a seat and brushing a thin hand through her sister's long hair, "Ang, hun, it's me. It's Rosie."

The young woman's innocent face remained set into an expression of placid shock, but she blinked, hard, once, twice, and slowly turned towards the sound of the voice. "Rosie," She stated, her mouth having trouble working around the word, "Rosie... Jay ain't come back. Serra, she... she don't sleep 'less he's here."

"I'm sure he's on his way," Rosie comforted, putting an arm around Angie's petite shoulders, "You want me to hold Serra for awhile?"

"No," Angie answered, hugging her wailing brunette daughter fiercely against her chest, "No, I have to. I have to wait for Jay to get home so he can put her to bed." She turned to her sister again, smiling a watery, half-desperate smile as she choked, "He's such a good daddy, Rosie. You oughta see him. Serra just loves him. He's such a good daddy."

"I know, _jie-jie_," Rosie soothed, watching with horror as the cracks in the glass began splintering outwards, "I know. I'm sure he'll be back real soon."

The unmistakable sound of gunshots came from outside the ship, three blasts from the pistol Lou kept strapped to her hip. They'd all heard the weapon fired enough times to recognize it anywhere. Rosie felt Angie tense up in her arms, Serra's loud cries getting louder with fright as her sweet little face flushed to the dark pink of her mama's glass shield.

Instead of jumping up to investigate, Rosie stayed right where she was, carefully petting the silky wisps of chocolate hair on her niece's tiny skull. "She's hungry," The young woman whispered.

Angie came out of her fog briefly in order to offer her breast out to the swaddled girl. Serra attacked it hungrily, quieting down as she suckled and pawed at the healthy mound of flesh, whiskey brown eyes wide open, alert and shining as she fed contentedly.

The room was very quiet for a few moments and Rosie breathed a sigh of relief. Even Angie seemed a bit calmer, lovingly watching her daughter as the progress of the cracks halted abruptly.

Another two shots came from outside the ship, some far off shouting echoing through the open corridors. Rosie decided it was time to investigate. "I'm going to see what's going on," She told her distracted sister, "I'll be right back, ok?" Not taking her eyes off of little Serra, Angie nodded solemnly.

Rosie stepped carefully outside the ship, peeking around the open cargo bay door. A smile came across her face when she saw who was out there: Sam. It was Sam, and Jessie was jumping all over him, hugging him, and cussing and crying. Rosie trotted out happily to meet her brother.

But then she noticed that his face was bruised and bloody, expression set in stone, as usual, but cool blue eyes fierce and frozen. He was _mad_, just boiling with it, resisting Jessie's tearful but insistent hugs as he shouted at Louisa.

"Gorramit, Louie!!" The dark-haired man of thirty raged, wincing and cradling his bloody side, "For once in your in ruttin' life, _don't_ shoot first!! I gotta explain what happened and we gotta get in the air!!"

But Louie wasn't listening. She was too busy holding a gun on... oh no...

Oh, Lord, no...

"Explain what?" The ex-soldier snarled, never moving her firearm or equally deadly gaze away from... well, she didn't really have a name. The crew just called her Junior.

They hadn't seen Junior in nearly three years, not since she shot up J.J. and Leyne's twelfth birthday party--almost killing Lou and unborn Naya in the process--and managed to slip away by knocking Sam unconscious.

You might say Louisa was holding a bit of a grudge.

Rosie would say it was a vendetta of epic proportions.

"Give me one good reason not to plug you full a' holes, _chou-bi_," Lou growled, voice full of the rage clearly visible on her face. That was never a good sign. Only when the tall woman's expression betrayed her emotions was it time to worry about stopping her from committing a homicide or two.

Junior stood her ground, high, pale forehead shining in the sun as her thin lips twisted into a mighty smirk. She'd dyed her hair since last time they'd seen her--from wet-straw blonde to a dull, matte black; it fell in a slightly tousled bob around her delicate chin--but the rest of her was still the same. She had a high, prominent cheekbones, and demure blue eyes. She was stick-thin--a bird-like body--the high-waisted khaki trousers and dirty, blood-stained man's shirt she wore clinging tight to nothing legs and draped loosely from razor-sharp shoulders.

She... had a little girl hiding just behind her, one that Rosie knew wasn't really there. The little girl had tangled wet-straw hair, the skeletal body and innocent blue eyes of her older counterpart. She was crying hopelessly, weeping into the threadbare sleeves of the orange prison-issue jumpsuit that hung off her tiny, obviously malnourished body.

"Alright," The grown-up Junior stated, voice smug and syrupy sweet, baiting a wild animal and fully aware of it, "Got a good one for you, even."

"Get on with it, whore," Louisa warned icily, "'Fore I lose my gorram patience."

Junior frowned, glancing over at Sam, who was looking sort of wobbly, to snap, "Deal's off. _Nobody_ calls me a whore." Without another word, the petite woman just turned and made to walk away.

A shot from Lou's pistol made the ground around Junior's feet erupt into a shower of white clay soil, stopping her in her tracks. "I will call you whatever I damn well please," Louisa growled fiercely, "And you ain't goin' nowhere 'til I say. Turn around."

Junior didn't move. The weeping little girl clung to her leg and began to wail, "_I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you! It was a mistake!_"

"Turn the hell around," Lou warned once more, grip getting tighter and tighter as she squeezed down on the worn trigger of her gun, "I ain't gonna shoot no one in the back, not even you."

"Lou, they got Jay!!" Sam bellowed, collapsing into Jessie, slowly taking them both down with his limp weight.

Louie's eyes went wide with shock and fear, her gun arm drooping under the heft of the pistol.

Before anyone could react, a series of small _poppoppop_s sounded through the valley. Junior flinched, her insignificant arms flying up to shield her face and chest from the onslaught of stinging projectiles bouncing off her front.

"_Ta ma-de_!!" Mac's voice snarled from out of _Rapture_'s missile bay, followed by a commotion as he rummaged in the weapon rack, "Naya! I told you a million times! Stop mixin' the toy guns in with the real ones!! Man can't even ruttin' shoot nobody 'round here!!"

"Hold it a minute, husband!" Louisa ordered, voice cold and dangerous as she actually went and stepped into his line of fire.

"Get outta the way!" Mac growled, the barrel of his shotgun falling to the ground and away from his wife, "I'm gonna kill her! Then maybe she'll think twice about shootin' folks what don't deserve it!"

With a forced, watery smile, Lou soothed, "I ain't sayin' you can't kill her, just that you can't kill her _yet_." Not worried at all about catching a bullet off her husband, the pilot turned back to Junior. She picked the much shorter woman up off the ground by the shirt collar, holding both her and the kicking, sobbing little girl high in the air as she demanded, "Where's my brother?"

"The Niskas got him," Junior replied calmly, unflinching gaze locked with Louie's, "And if you don't put me down _right now_, then I'm not going to help you get him back."

A split second later, Junior was sprawled on her behind in the dirt.

They'd had problems with Niskas for farther back than Rosie could remember. She'd heard the story of how it started many times, of the train job and Uncle Mal and Uncle Wash getting kidnapped, of the daring rescue mission. There'd been smaller skirmishes since, but nothing well-planned enough to do real harm. The old man, Adelai Niska, had died a few months before Miranda and didn't leave behind much for his progeny in the way of brains. Generation after generation of bumbling halfwits kept coming though, kept trying and failing to settle a score that should've been laid to rest a long time ago.

But a new generation had just come in power, a set of three great-grandchildren who possessed a scary mix of intelligence and ruthlessness and strength, Grigori, Irina, and Oxana. They'd decided their first act as heads of the Niska crime syndicate would be to send a message, to prove to the 'verse that their family's declining reputation was a thing of the past.

The Reynolds feud seemed like as good of a place as any to start.

With Mac refusing to point his shotgun away from the woman who'd damn near killed his wife and daughter, Lou sewed up the through-n-through on Sam's left side while Junior filled them in. She told them about how she'd been conducting her own business with the Niskas on world when Sam and Jay, bloody and beaten and bound, had been marched into the office. She told them how she'd lied convincingly enough to get Grigori, the leader, to believe she had her own score to settle with Sam and, seeing as how he and his sisters only really needed _one_ of the Reynolds brothers to get their point across, the Niskas sold her the other under the impression that she'd take care of him herself. Besides, they thought it was pretty hilarious the way the twins raged and screamed and fought like hell against being separated.

They'd be taking Jay to a little shit moon they'd recently purchased called Gamayun. The empire wasn't what it used to be and they couldn't afford the space station their great-grandfather used as his base of operations so had to settle for the barely habitable world. The crew already knew they could never make the journey in time to stop Jay from getting tortured, but they could do it in time to stop him from getting killed. They intended to do just that.

But _Serenity_ wasn't going to be getting off the ground anytime soon and they absolutely, positively needed to leave yesterday. The plan got decided and implemented quickly: the woman and children, minus Lou, of course, would stay behind and repair the old Firefly. When they were able to, they'd take off to meet the rescue party at Haven. Sam, Louie, Mac, and--after a lot of grumbling about the gorram bitch being on their boat--Junior would take _Rapture_ to Gamayun and launch an assault on the Niska compound. Lou had more than enough firearms and ammunition for a small army, as well as a few pieces of high-tech stealth technology to help them infiltrate without being noticed, and a few dozen highly illegal missiles at her disposal. She'd been stockpiling again, a habit born from her time in the war. The rest of the family had pretty mixed feelings about it.

Just before they left, Mac and Louie pulled Burne, who was not yet nine, aside and had a very hushed, serious conversation with the boy, ultimately arming him with a twelve-gauge and the instruction, "If someone you don't know tries gettin' anywhere near the ship, shoot 'em."

Rosie watched them take off for Gamayun and thought about heroes again, about Louisa in the pilot seat guiding _Rapture_ off world and straight into hell, about Mac standing beside her, silent for once as he watched his wife's fierce expression and knew his own matched because that time was a time for the kind of ferocity that only came from loyalty and love.

She thought about love and about loyalty, about Sam, with the bullet hole clean through him that didn't hurt near as bad as the ache of emptiness he felt just from knowing his brother _wasn't with him_. She thought about Sam and how he wouldn't _let _himself pass out, rest, or even think until his twin was back and safe, until the ones who hurt his twin were mangled and dead. She thought about strength. And she thought about fear.

Rosie thought about family, about Junior who didn't have her own when it was all she ever wanted, about how the mysterious young woman was protecting theirs. Rosie thought about how Junior reasoned she was paying a debt to the _Serenity_ clan even while secretly harboring hopes, denying them to herself, that she'd be accepted into the family. Rosie thought about Junior and the lonely little girl she carried with her everywhere she went, the lonely little girl desperately wanting for a home where she could just... not _have_ to be so brave.

It took three days for the repairs. They only got waves from _Rapture_ during the first two. "_Have to come in under the radar_," Lou proclaimed wisely, her face a mask of bronze on the cortex screen, "_My equipment can only hide so much so we're goin' dark_. _Get off that rock soon as you can and we'll wave you when it's done_."

Angie still wasn't doing too well, crying all the time, frustrated and scared. Jessie did her best to keep her calm, keep them all calm, but she was very near frantic in her work. Fear settled over the whole ship.

Burne stayed outside all day every day in the intense, blistering sun, perched on top of _Serenity _herself with a shotgun across his lap and his soft blue eyes sharply scanning the horizon, hardening against the horizon. The boy probably would've kept his watches all night every night if Rosie hadn't herded him inside to sleep, only able to convince him to do so by taking his place astride the mass of wounded machinery that had always been so much more to all of them, that had always been their home because it was where they kept their memories and their odd little family.

Davey and Naya didn't fight as much as usual, seeking each other for companionship and comfort because Burne was suddenly... beyond them, so much older now with his gun and his seriousness and his duty. The two spoke in hushed whispers, a clash of scarlet and gold patrolling along the catwalks, learning from example that family was worth fighting and dying for.

The roar of _Serenity_'s engine coming to life, of the ship coming alive all around them on the third day made Rosie actually smile. She was holding Serra while Angie dozed fitfully on the couch. The infant went quiet and still and just... listened to the throbbing hum of her home. Her whiskey brown eyes were wide and shining, wondering.

Burne took them out of atmo and activated the preprogrammed course to Haven his mama'd plotted for them before she left. Still more than seven days out, all they had to look forward to was a long stretch of black and waiting, hoping, praying.

"Serenity_, this is _Rapture. _This is _Rapture. _Do you read?_"

Faint static on the second day of space travel, the fifth since the sister ships parted. It sounded like a heavenly choir or angels.

"_We're too far out for vid, but we're just fine_. _Blew up practically the whole gorram moon and hopefully the last bits a' _tian-sheng de _Niska DNA in the 'verse_! _Ha_! _Jay's alright_. _Banged up plenty, but alive and already whinin' his 'are we there yet?' _fang pi. _I'm gonna slingshot 'round Newhall and the momentum'll pro'ly get us to Haven ahead a' you_-"

"_Burne and Naya, Mama and Daddy love and miss you_!"

"_I was gonna tell 'em, husband_! _I didn't forget_! _Burne, honey, I'm gonna let you bring her down for the landing_._ I think you're more'n ready_. _Watch the entry vector and remember to breathe_._ Don't be nervous just 'cuz she's a might bigger girl than _Rapture. _You're a natural_. _And, Naya, you better damn well be behavin' yourself or, so help me Buddha, I'm gonna whup your behind so hard-_"

The sound of cursing muffled by a hand pressed tight over the mouth from which it came.

"_Don't listen to Mama, baby girl_. _She's tired and cranky_. _I'll put her to bed now_. _Night, everyone_. _See ya soon_."

"They didn't put Jay on," Angie observed as the transmission fizzled off, shell-shocked voice caught between joy and apprehension, "Why didn't they put him on? You think he's hurt real bad?"

"I'm sure he's fine," Jessie soothed, hugging the shorter woman against her side and lovingly petting her strawberry blonde hair, "Pro'ly just tired and sleepin', havin' dreams about seein' you and that pretty girl a' yours."

The answer seemed to pacify Angie slightly but she still worried, wringing her nimble hands together before retreating off the bridge to check on Serra.

Five more days and no words from Jay passed. Angie was getting jumpy and hysterical, the cracks spreading as she spent a good twenty minutes cussin' uncharacteristically into the cortex for her son-of-a-bitch husband to get his _pi-gu_ up there to talk to her right that gorram second or he was gonna wish they'd left him on Gamayun! Lou, Mac, and Sam just kept assuring her that Jay was fine, that he was resting and being well taken care of by the doc back on Haven.

Burne's first solo landing of the Firefly was slightly bumpier than those of his mama's or even of Jay's--who'd turned far more than proficient under his _jie-jie_'s far less than patient tutelage. Still though, the boy did just fine. Louie was the first to proudly tell him so when she came stomping up to the bridge to forcibly pry his white-knuckled hands off the yolk.

Soon as Jessie got the cargo bay door open, Angie bolted out, hugging Serra to her chest as she ran to find her husband. She ran past her daddy's attempts at a warning and straight into the little infirmary he'd been working out of since he retired on the planet a few years back. It was a clean little white building, reasonably well-stocked for one found on a rim world.

Jay was asleep in one of the few hospital beds kept in the back rooms, whimpering and thrashing in his sleep. Gently lowering herself to sit beside him, Angie had tears streaming out of her big brown eyes as she saw what had been done to the man she loved, saw the jagged mass of skin that had been methodically burned off his left cheek, saw the busted nose and swelled-shut eyelids, saw both the broken arms and all ten of the broken fingers, saw the bloody bandages wrapping most of his torso and concealing the long, deep knife wounds and hundreds of weaves holding them shut.

Rosie stood in the doorway with Aunt Inara, watching silently as Angie used her free hand to tenderly brush Jay's light brown curls off his scraped and bruised forehead, watching as she began to sob but the glass shield that surrounded her petite body glowed red hot and melted and mended its cracks. Rosie couldn't help but remember Danny Wei, the glasssmith from Persephone, remember watching him heat lumps of glass in his kiln and mold the strong delicate material into objects of luminous beauty. Angie was molding her herself into a stronger person because she knew it was what she had to do. Wasn't no time to shatter. Needed strength. Found strength. And the deep down strength was beautiful.

Rosie started writing her book that night.

"_'Hero' is not the right word to use when describing the people this book is about_. _It's not good enough, not complex enough_. _It doesn't penetrate deep enough to mean what most intend it to_. _A moment comes where a need arises and heroes are the ones who step forward to do what is required of them_. _Most don't even like the term_. _They live their lives dreading their own feats of heroism because, undoubtedly, the need for such is a threat to their peaceful existences, to love and happiness and family_."

"I know you don't like blood, Angie," Jay defended the next morning, awake but sore and groggy, unusually quiet as he tried coming to terms with the very idea of being a torture victim, clinging to the two girls who'd given him the strength he needed to survive the ordeal, "I didn't wave 'cuz I didn't want you to see me all bloody when I wasn't there to catch you if you fainted."

"_Hun dahn_," His wife murmured quietly against his previously dislocated shoulder. Had he not been bandaged up and holding their daughter, Rosie was fair sure Angie would've beaten Jay to a pulp. But, actually, she had to admit that it was... sweet.

The family stayed for a long visit, landing both ships close to the Cobb ranch and falling easily into the kind of chaotic harmony they were so well known for. Ginny took time off to fly out, to poke and prod Jay for herself to make sure he was alright. Rosie knew that her little sister felt guilty she hadn't been there, always felt guilty when she wasn't there, but Ginny had her own life to make, her own path to pioneer through the great wide 'verse, and no one faulted her for it. She had the knowledge and drive and heart to do great things.

J.J. and Leyne, fourteen going on fifteen, loved the company. They always did. Lou once remarked that she knew how they felt. Those first thirteen years of her life she spent on Qilin were highlighted mostly by visits from _Serenity_ and wishing she could be a part of the adventures. This time, though, she also expressed a desire for _maybe_ a bit more quiet, a few less adventures that saw members of the family in harm's way, that put more bullets in all of them.

Despite protests from Uncle Jayne and Uncle Mal, Junior stuck around for a good long while. Even made herself useful, doing chores and such. Lou tolerated her, as did Mac, so no one called the feds and no one ordered her to leave. Seemed like something had happened on the mission to convince the previously murderous pair that maybe, just maybe, Junior deserved a shot. The young woman was... nice, intelligent and witty and actually a bit shy at times. She spent a lot of time with Sam, the two of them laughing and flirting, arguing and competing.

She also spent time with Jay, her and Louie and Uncle Mal. They'd all been tortured and it seemed like there was a silent agreement amongst all the family members that they would be the ones to counsel Jay through his ordeal. The four spent many hours just talking quietly in the bedroom he occupied.

Naya's birthday came up fast and, though they never got to St. Alban's, the family held a great second birthday party for the girl. She got the kitten she asked for, a tiny, bright orange tabby Lou took an instant disliking to. Junior was a guest that time and the piñata died from blunt force trauma just like it was supposed to.

Afterwards, Rosie decided it was time to get back to what she'd set out to Haven to do in the first place and that was to conduct interviews of the old crew.

"_Everyone knows the story of Miranda_. _It's nearly impossible not to_. _What no one knows or seems to understand is that the story is _not_ a story_. _It happened, took lives and changed lives, made heroes and broke them_. _For one family, it was their life_. _For one family, it was a test of the strength they drew from each other and continue to draw to this day_."

Her mama was easy to convince, though that didn't make hearing her accounts any less devastating. Her daddy was reluctant but ultimately cooperative and, thankfully, didn't sob practically the whole time.

Aunt River resigned herself to helping, her and Uncle Jayne holding hands as they both narrated their individual stories. Neither of them could have done it alone, without the other there.

Aunt Inara was helpful, too, quiet and dignified, a little distracted with worry for her sons. After all, one was recovering from life-threatening injuries and the other was falling in love with a mysterious and probably dangerous stranger. It was a mother's job to fret.

Uncle Mal was the biggest challenge. He didn't want to help and Rosie ended up chasing him all over the planet before finally cornering him one evening in the graveyard. It was getting on into spring and the wildflowers were sprouting up around the stone monuments. Uncle Mal was clearing them, lashing them into small bundles, and laying them on the graves of his fallen friends.

Rosie stood watching him for a few long minutes, watching the granite he was made of wear and weather just the littlest bit more as he kept on plowing headlong through his hard-won life.

"Somethin' you wanted, Miss Rosie?" He finally asked, drawing the young woman out of her deep thought.

Steeling herself, Rosie walked forward, quietly stating, "I wanted to talk to you, Uncle Mal."

"What about?" He replied, playing dumb and not halting his activity, old gnarled hands no longer nimble and nor quick, but comfortable with the labor.

"Uncle Mal," Rosie whined, coming to kneel beside him in the dirt. "Please," She begged quietly, "Please, tell me the story."

"_This story is_ not_ a story_. _This story is a legend, is a parable, is a history that touches us all_._ It is the ebb and the flow, laughter and tears, freedom and bondage_. _This story is only the beginning_."

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Translations -

bao bei - sweetheart

mei-mei - younger sister

nu-er - daughter

jie-jie - older sister

chou-bi - stinking cunt

ta ma-de - damn

tian-sheng de - inbred

fang pi - bullshit (lit. to fart)

pi-gu - butt

hun dahn -

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Author's notes -

Gamayun - prophetic character of Russion folklore depicted with the head of a woman and the body of a large bird. A symbol of wisdom and knowledge.

Strength - the quality or state of being strong; mental power, force, or vigor; moral power, firmness, or courage; power of resisting force, strain, wear, etc.; the power to rise or remain firm.


	5. Faith

Part 5 - Faith

The loss of Ginny's faith had been a long time coming. She could trace its inevitability all the way back to when she was sixteen, when she left home for an early acceptance MedAcad program on Osiris. Yes, that's when Ginny's faith began to waver; it predated the inevitable collapse.

Apathy, superficiality, greed, and incompetence surrounded her. The other students were core-born, spoiled and privileged and careless. They just _didn't care_.

Well, they did care about achieving rank, about growing up to be respected, about operating on the elite and being well-connected.

Ginny was an outcast because of her youth, because of her upbringing, because of her vast wealth of first-hand medical knowledge and experience (because she'd been digging bullets out of Uncle Mal back when her classmates were attending cotillions). They hated her for being smarter than them, made fun of her for being different and so much stronger.

But Ginny was a nose-to-the-grindstone kind of girl and just stopped caring after awhile. She wasn't at the school to make friends, after all; she was there to become a doctor, a trauma surgeon like her daddy. She idolized him.

By twenty-five, she was the attending physician for the St. Lucy's emergency center on Ariel. She worked long hours in a place where she wasn't especially needed or valued. Ginny may have been the best, but there were always three more surgeons more than willing and able to do her job.

The core had too many doctors, so many that it was not uncommon to walk through the ER and hear them fighting with each other over procedures.

Meanwhile, rim worlds were just as poor and lacking in the most basic of necessities; and Ginny's whole family continued to suffer because of the lifestyle they chose.

When Davey was eight, his appendix ruptured four days from proper medical facilities. He nearly died and so did his mama. He was her reason for living.

There wasn't anything Ginny could do when they waved her and she cut the transmission feeling helpless and resentful. Seemed like it didn't matter whether it was the Alliance or the Republic who was in charge, rim worlds were always going to be rim worlds, deprived and technologically lacking, unwanted stepchildren surviving on scraps and sheer resolve. What should have been a simple, nearly painless laproscopic outpatient procedure looked like it would be the end of the bright boy.

During a lull in the chaos that was the St. Lucy trauma center, Dr. Ginger Marie Tam found an empty room and cried hysterically into her hands.

She did so until the little black pager she wore at her hip those days instead of a gun went off to alert her that there was work to be done. She calmly wiped her swollen blue eyes and rushed to it, finding herself even more seething mad when she arrived to discover a little boy, the son of a senator and wealthy businessman, brought in with the beginning stages of appendicitis. His case was not yet an emergency but his well-connected parents had pulled strings to demand a shameful amount of personnel and resources be dedicated to him. His name was Golyat Hastin and he was Davey's younger half-brother, that bastard Casimir Hastin's son.

After flawlessly performing the surgery, after picking up a message from drawn and bleary-eyed Louisa informing her that they were en-route to intercept a Republic medical cruiser, the _IRV Xi Wangmu_--which, despite Lou's status as a high-ranking, highly-decorated war veteran and all-around hero, was refusing to alter course in order to make the trip faster--Ginny went back to that same empty room and cried again. There was more anger the second time, injustice and rage welling up inside her until she felt like she was just going to burst.

She decided that she no longer believed in God.

The next days were a blur, long hours and crippling worry had Ginny walking around like a zombie and retreating every few hours into the always-deserted room to cry. It was a nice little room, modest beige carpet on the floor, scenes of nature hung on the stark white walls, and a big, colored glass window that faced west. It lit up like it was on fire when the sun set.

It wasn't until the evening of the fourth day that Ginny finally realized her nice little room was actually a chapel.

"Excuse me," A kind voice interrupted just seconds before the young woman felt a hand on her shoulder.

Working purely on instinct, she grabbed the intruder by the wrist and threw him to the floor with a flip move Louisa'd taught her ages ago.

And then she was face-to-face with a man who would have been extremely handsome had he not been gasping for breath as Ginny choked the life out of him. "What?" She demanded coldly, suddenly very aware that she was straddling his fit, firm body as she pinned him mercilessly to the modest beige carpet. It was very difficult not to blush.

"Um," The man choked, deep almond-shaped brown eyes wide and wild as he stared up at the dark-haired beauty hovering over him, "I just wanted to know if you were alright."

Ginny paused.

"Oh."

She released him and jumped away in an instant, losing her battle with the furious blush as she offered the stranger a hand up. "Sorry," She mumbled sheepishly, "I'm a little tense and... well, I guess I've never really handled people sneakin' up on me very well."

"Quite alright," The man answered pleasantly, voice a little strained as he rubbed his sore throat and deftly straightened his neat black suit.

When his hand finally fell away from the collar Ginny's mouth dropped. "You're a shepherd?" She gaped helplessly.

He gave a warm smile, long, messy mousey hair falling out of the short ponytail gathered at the nape of his neck and into his kind eyes. "As of a week ago," He answered, offering out his hand, "My name is Casy Yonah. I was just assigned as hospital chaplain. And you are?"

"Dr. Tam," Ginny automatically replied, having long gotten out of the habit of assuming anyone around there cared about her first name, "And _so_ goin' to the special hell..."

Laughing, the shepherd stated, "Of course not. That level is reserved for child molesters and people who talk at the theater. If they sent all the people who've kicked my _pi gu_, then there wouldn't be any room for the ones who really deserve it."

A rare smile came to Ginny's face. "You wouldn't happen to have trained at Southdown, would you?" She asked teasingly.

"How did you guess?" He answered, glancing down at himself in search of some specific giveaway.

Ginny laughed, "Just lucky."

Smiling, the shepherd straightened himself up a bit more and cleared his throat. "So, my child," He began very formally, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Not really," Ginny answered, exhaustedly falling back into her seat, "No offense. I respect your profession and all, my mama and daddy did raise me right, but I'm not too keen on the Lord at present."

"And why is that?" He questioned softly, his kind eyes never leaving hers as he took a seat at the young woman's side.

Ginny looked away into one of the pretty stained glass windows, watching it glow with the setting sun as she tiredly sighed, "I ain't lookin' for spiritual guidance."

Chuckling, the shepherd responded, "It's strange I would find you crying in a chapel then."

Stunned, Ginny didn't even register her eyes going wide as she glanced around the small room. Before she could stop herself, the young woman blurted, "Aw, hell."

She quickly slapped a hand down over her blasphemous mouth, cheeks heating up as Casy began to laugh.

Mortified and not seeing any other option, Ginny bolted from the room.

A few hours later, after trying hard to forget about the overwhelming embarrassment and fear by inundating herself with all the patients she could get her hands on, she picked up another message from Louisa. _Rapture_ had finally managed to intercept the _IRV Xi Wangmu_ and Davey would be going into surgery the second one of the doctors got through with their very important paperwork.

Ginny checked on Golyat and found that the five-year-old had three interns at his beck and call, that he was being served cake and ice cream and fresh fruit, that Casimir Hastin was fluffing his pillows and promising him a pony for being such a good boy.

She had to leave and threw up in the ladies'--that's what bathrooms were called in the core, the ladies' and the gents'; Ginny longed to hear someone, _anyone_, call out that they were going to hit the head, or visit the crapper, or, as Uncle Jayne liked to joke, drop the kids off at the pool.

Yup, Ginny was most definitely homesick, and everything about the core just seemed to make is worse. She hated the people, the language, the values. She longed to be home. Not even necessarily back on _Serenity_, just somewhere she could actually feel like the work she did was making a difference; somewhere she was needed; somewhere people acted like people to one another and didn't think twice about what was in it for them; somewhere kindness was a given and not dependent on bank accounts or status. A lot of people on the rims may have had no problem robbing and cheating, but at least they had the decency to be upfront about it.

The shepherd was waiting for her outside the bathroom and Ginny could have just died right there on the spot. She knew it was stupid, but she looked like a mess; after nearly sixty hours of being on call, she was pale and had heavy circles beneath her blue eyes, her dark hair was a frizzed, tangled mess that she knew Jessie would scold her for if she ever saw it like that, and, to top off the whole package, now her breath smelled like vomit.

Perfect.

"Hello," Casy greeted, a warm, somewhat shy smile on his handsome face, "I saw you go in and I wanted to talk to you... are you feeling alright?"

Actually quite sick and dizzy, Ginny shoved past him and snapped, "I'm fine. And I've got a lot of work to do."

Frowning, the shepherd announced, "The head nurse just told me you were off."

"Well, I'm not!" The slim woman growled angrily over her shoulder, "I'm very busy and I can't do my job with some irritatin' man a' God clingin' to my heels!"

The girl never had been one for beating around the bush.

"She said you were going to be sent home," Casy stated very quietly, gently, "You've already gone far over the eighty-hour work week maximum."

Seething, Ginny stopped, turned around and screamed, "So what if I did? Why do you care? I'm not some _ta made niao _charity case and I won't be your next big project! No one here needs or wants you around so why don't you go somewhere where you'll actually do some good!" She was vaguely aware that she was drawing a crowd but could not bring herself to care. A dull buzzing was drowning out the sounds of her own shouting and the dizziness was crashing over her in increasingly severe waves.

Ginny was a workaholic; she knew she didn't take very good care of herself, and stress and worry over her family tended to exacerbate the situation.

She knew she'd overdone it when her vision grew just dark enough to watch the whole world go hurtling upwards as her knees gave and she collapsed limply to the floor.

As was the usual case, three doctors took two hours to confer over her charts before finally pronouncing that she needed fluids and bed rest. Ginny spent the entire time thinking about just how much good any one of them would be doing if he was on the rim worlds that needed doctors, how many people they would have saved while they were debating over a diagnosis she knew from the second she faded back into consciousness.

The shepherd stayed by her bedside, chatting pleasantly and trying to get her to open up to him. She didn't feel much like sharing, not wanting to give fodder to any of the gossip about her she knew was already whirling around the hospital; she also didn't feel much like arguing, which was why she didn't put up a fight when Casy declared that he would like to see that she got home alright. Besides, Ginny's little apartment was a long tram ride away and it was nice to be able to lean against a warm, solid shoulder as she struggled to stay awake throughout the whole thing.

"Can I make you some tea?" Casy asked kindly, his deep-set almond eyes searching the young woman's pale face as he carefully helped her to her bed. Since the apartment was only two rooms, and one of those rooms was the bathroom, it wasn't a very far walk from the door. In fact, "bed" may have been a bit generous to describe the place where Ginny slept; it was nothing more than a sleeping pallet on the hard floor; she was constantly homesick for her hard steel bunk back on _Serenity_, or for the straw stuffed mattress she slept on when she visited her parents at Haven. The young woman never could manage to catch a wink on anything too fluffy.

"Sure," She responded blearily, getting up the second he turned his back and stumbling across the room to her desk and the small cortex terminal set on top of it. While the shepherd was busy boiling water in the kitchen, Ginny logged on to the cortex to see if Louisa had left her anymore messages about Davey's condition.

She hadn't.

Ginny put her head down on the desk and cried quietly.

She didn't hear Casy came back, didn't notice him at all until after he'd set the steaming cup of chamomile tea down at her elbow and knelt beside her. "What's the matter?" He asked gently, drawing one strong hand down her shaking back as the other brushed a tear off her cheek, "Why are you crying?"

With a big choking sob, trying furiously to wipe away the snot and spit running out of her face, Ginny answered, "Davey's gonna die and it ain't fair!!"

A pause followed, filled by the young woman's weeping, before Casy inquired, "Who is Davey?"

"M-My nephew," Ginny sniffled, standing unsteadily to pull down one of the framed captures she kept all over the shelves above her desk. "This is him," She stated, tears still running down her pretty face as she flopped back down in her seat and lovingly drew her fingers along the dark-skinned boy's absolutely radiant smile, his glowing gold eyes, his stand-on-end scarlet hair, "He's only eight..."

The funny thing about telling Casy things was that... Casy actually _listened_. He was sympathetic and agreed with Ginny when she raged on about how unjust the medical establishment had become, when she complained about how she was such an outcast, when she poured her heart about how guilty and isolated and useless and homesick she was feeling.

"It ain't fair," She lamented, wiping her eyes with a tissue the shepherd had offered, "I got all this learnin' and I can't even help my own family! Bein' poor or livin' on a spaceship or a rim world don't make a person any less entitled to gettin' taken care of when he's sick! We got the most advanced medical technology in all a' history! Little boys shouldn't be dyin' just 'cuz they don't have senators and businessmen for parents!"

Casy grew silent, speculative, his handsome face stoic. After a few moments, he drew down another framed capture, holding it out as he asked, "Is this one of your sisters?"

"Ya, Louisa," Ginny stated, nodding and leaning over to point out her family members, "That's her in the middle, and the guy next to her is her husband, Mac. The little boy is Washburne and the girl is Anaya. I took that a few years ago at Naya's second birthday party back on Haven. She's five now and Burne's twelve. They both got real big since then but I... I ain't seen 'em in awhile... just been real busy..."

Casy smiled softly, remarking, "They're a lovely family." He gazed at the capture for another moment before putting it back and taking down another. "Another of your sisters?" The shepherd inquired, smirking fondly over what was quite obviously a wedding portrait.

Again, Ginny nodded, stating, "Rosie. She got married two years ago to Ekain Harper."

"That famous impressionist painter that just had the big gallery show on Sihnon?" Casy asked, both interested and amazed, "And, wait, your last name is Tam, so does that mean your sister is Rose-Ellen Beth Tam, the author?"

Smiling proudly, Ginny answered, "Yup. You read her book?"

"Of course," Casy stated, clearly impressed as he continued to stare at the capture, "I don't know anyone who hasn't. It was an absolutely amazing work."

Impossibly prouder, Ginny beamed, "Ya. She's got a real gift for storytellin'... she's expecting her first in a month or two. I did the ultrasounds myself. It's gonna be a boy."

"That's wonderful," The shepherd answered brightly.

"Uh huh," Ginny said, glad to be bragging about her family as she stood unsteadily to take down yet another capture, "And this is Angie and Jay and their daughters. That right there is Serra, she's three, and Clover, she's two, and Zinnia, she's one, and Jonquil, she's only 'bout four months."

"Jonquil?" Casy laughed fondly, glad that the young woman was finally mildly relaxed and happy, eager to keep her talking to him, "That's an unusual name."

Shrugging, Ginny replied, "It's a flower. Most a' the girls in my family get flower names. My mama started it with me and my sisters, and I guess it just stuck. And it certainly don't help none that Jay's nuttier than squirrel turd."

The shepherd smiled at the exhausted brunette and her colorful diction, his longish mousey hair beginning to slip more and more from the messy ponytail gathered at the nape of his strong neck. "So..." He said, "Rose-Ellen Beth..."

"Jessamine Lee," Ginny finished tiredly, "And Angelica Simone."

"And you?" Casy pressed after a moment, taking down an absolutely bursting group capture of the entire Tam-Reynolds-Cobb-Washburne-Machado bunch. He particularly enjoyed the bright and carefree smile his companion wore in it as she was being pelted with water balloons by a pair of dark-haired teenaged twins.

"I'm Ginger," She responded with a yawn, her head beginning to droop forward towards the desk, "Ginger Marie Tam. My family calls me Ginny and I guess if I had any friends, they'd pro'ly call me Ginny, too."

The pair sat in silence for a long few moments before the shepherd finally put the capture back in its place among the dozens of others, standing up as he prompted, "You should drink your tea and get to bed. I didn't mean to keep you up."

"It's alright," Ginny yawned, sucking down a soothing mouthful of chamomile, "This is the most I've talked to anyone outside a' family or work in years... thanks, Shepherd, for actually listenin'. I mean, I know it's just your job and all, but it really did make me feel better."

"That..." Casy began uncertainly, "That's what I'm here for... any time you need me. Can I help you to bed?"

Ginny nodded and allowed herself to be led the short span of her apartment back to the mattress on the floor. She was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.

The next morning--late afternoon, really--she woke up feeling energized and refreshed, and the first thing she did was sprint to her desk and turn on the cortex to check for updates about Davey.

A message from Louisa lit up the screen, her adoptive _jie-jie_'s striking bronze face appearing exhausted but smiling.

Davey was going to recover.

Ginny nearly melted with relief.

The young woman never could say exactly how much time passed before she became aware of someone knocking at her door. Still in scrubs, her body feeling sticky, achy, she dragged herself to answer it.

The shepherd's handsome, smiling face appeared, his tall body lean, weighted down by the bulging grocery bags he had in both hands. His black suit was neat, his short mousey ponytail perfectly messy.

"Good afternoon," He chirped after a brief moment of fidgeting under Ginny's silent, confused stare, "Are you feeling better?"

"Uh..." Ginny gaped blankly, tugged the ruined ponytail out of her matted dark hair and giving the long mane a shake, "Ya, I'm ok. What're you doin' here?"

The man shifted a bit on his feet, announcing somewhat shyly, "Well, first, I wanted to check up on you. Make sure you were alright. And, um, second-" He held up the grocery bags, grinning sheepishly "-I wanted to bring by some food so I could make you dinner. I happened to notice a distinct lack of anything aside from chocolate pudding in your refrigeration unit last night."

Ginny felt her face get hot and knew that it would be bright red. "I eat a lot a' take-away," She admitted.

"That just won't do," The shepherd responded teasingly, still beaming her what seemed to be his best and most lovable smile, "We have to keep your strength up, and home-cooked meals are the best way... so, can I come in?"

Biting her lip in deep thought, Ginny answered, "Look, Shepherd, I appreciate the effort. Really, I do, but you don't gotta take care a' me. Don't feel obligated just 'cuz I went 'n wept on ya."

He pouted just a bit--giving away just how painfully young he was; probably about the same age as Ginny--before whining, "I don't feel obligated. I wanted to spend time with you... really. You're interesting."

"But... uh..." Ginny gaped unintelligently, running her hands through her tangled hair in a desperate attempt to flatten it, "The place is a mess and I haven't showered-"

"I don't mind," Casy chirped, cutting in with yet another charming grin, "There are worse things than a bit of clutter. And you can take a shower while I'm cooking... not that you need one since I think you're pretty cute when you look like you just rolled out of bed."

Ginny's eyebrows flew up into her hairline. "Ok, hold up just one gorram minute!" The young woman shouted indignantly, jabbing a slim finger into the shepherd's chest. She nearly lost her train of thought when she felt how warm and solid it was, but quickly focused and accused, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were flirtin' with me, preacher-man!"

Casy continued to grin, though a faint pink rose on his broad cheekbones. "Why is that so hard to believe?" He challenged playfully.

With a calculating glare and a blush of her own, Ginny stated, "Don't you guys not... do that?"

Casy stared blankly.

"You know," Ginny elaborated, not bothering to keep her voice down as she bellowed into the hallway of her thin-walled building, "Ain't ya'll _celibate_?"

"Oh," The shepherd finally laughed, "Well, yes, some sects are. Mine hasn't ever been. Some of the brothers choose not to marry but that is a personal decision and not something required of us."

"Oh," Ginny answered, still looking at him suspiciously, defensively. "What makes ya think this is a good time to be sniffin' after me?" She challenged, "Ya know I'm sick and upset 'bout Davey!"

The shepherd chuckled, "Your nephew is fine. Louisa waved the hospital looking for you and I talked to her for a bit. She told me he's recovering. As for being sick-" He waved the grocery bags at her "-that's what the food is for. I'm nursing you back to health."

Again, Ginny merely stared for a few moments before demanding, "Why?"

His expression was open and honest. Ginny nearly fainted; it was exactly the kind of openness and honesty she'd been missing so much.

"Because," The young man answered quietly, "I figured you could use a friend, not a shepherd... after all, _you ain't too keen on the Lord at present_." The corners of his mouth twitched and he seemed rather pleased with his impression of her earlier statement. "And the best way to prove that I don't want to be your shepherd," He continued rather importantly, "Is to act the way I normally would around a brilliant, beautiful, incredibly interesting woman who I'm not counseling. So my plan is to tell you that I think you're beautiful and interesting, which I think I already covered, and then pretty much flirt non-stop and just be wildly inappropriate in general... just to eliminate any conflicts of interest, of course."

A reluctant smile slowly came over the young woman's face until she finally busted out laughing. Good Lord, that was one _strange_ shepherd.

She stepped aside and allowed him into her tiny apartment.

Casy shooed her into the bathroom fairly quickly, handing her a bottle of lavender soap and instructing her to take a _long _bubble bath. The news that Ginny did not have a bath, only a shower, was met with alarm and the declaration that she was going to have to move immediately.

Beginning to believe that Casy was, in fact, completely insane, Ginny took her shower feeling more relaxed than she should have given the situation. The soap he'd brought smelled heavenly and listening to him hum as he bustled about her kitchen--cooking for her, the girl noted delightedly--was just... comforting... nice... kind of... homey...

Forty minutes later, when she stepped out of the steamy bathroom with her hair wet and a thin towel wrapped around her slim body, Ginny was met by the smell of roasting chicken and grilled vegetables and damn near drooled a puddle onto the floor. "Lord," She moaned deliriously, drifting toward the kitchen counter where the shepherd was standing with his back to her as he basted the bird, "That smells _so good_."

"Thank you," The young man chirped brightly, "The monks at the abbey taught me a thing or two, and I brought along some of the herbs from the garden there, to use until I can start my own. What you smell is rosemary. It's really a remarkable-"

He cut himself off as he turned fully and laid eyes on Ginny. "Um," He stated, blushing as his gaze fell to his feet, "Did you have a good shower?"

"Ya, I did," The brunette answered, tucking the corner of her towel in more securely. She waited for a brief moment, smirking at the shepherd's blatant refusal to look up. "Am I makin' you uncomfortable, preacher-man?" She teased wickedly, wringing her hair out onto the floor before boosting herself to sit on the counter.

"Uncomfortable?" He parroted, his voice cracking quite hilariously. After clearing it a few times and quickly gaining some composure, Casy continued, "Yes, I think there is a distinct amount of uncomfortableness and it's... uh... in my pants?"

Ginny glowered angrily, "You got another thing comin' if you think that's the kinda line you can use and not get slapped!"

"I'm trying!" The shepherd protested, blushing bright, "I've been at an abbey for the last five years and took a crash course in flirting this morning from a strung-out fourteen-year-old who thought the chapel was a bathroom! Give me a break!"

Unsure whether or not to take that story seriously, Ginny replied, "Use a little common sense. My brother Jay was a total horn-dog and even he never used a line that bad, leastways not after he got kneed in the goodie sack over 'what do you like for breakfast?'."

"Ok," Casy said, appearing very thoughtful for a few moments as he put the chicken back into the oven. He strode over to Ginny, leaning against the counter beside her. He was still unable to look at her fully as he gave a slight smile and tried, "Ok. I got it... is that towel felt?"

Ginny glanced at her old towel, the one with the happy cartoon characters dancing across it, and frowned in confusion as she bluntly answered, "No, it ain't."

Casy gave a nervous grin, "Would you like it to be?"

Ginny stared, completely unamused. "Thin ice, Shepherd," She warned.

The shepherd laughed awkwardly, brushing back some stray hairs. "If I followed you home," He tried feebly, "Would you keep me?"

"You did follow me home," Ginny retorted matter-of-factly, "And I'm startin' to regret lettin' you in."

Again, he managed a nervous chuckle, scratching his chin as he asked, "Was your father a thief?"

"Ya," Ginny replied, eyes narrowing dangerously, "A criminal mastermind. You got a problem with that?"

The shepherd looked surprised, and also like he was resisting a powerful urge to run for his life. "Because someone stole the stars from the skies and put them in your eyes," He blurted hurriedly, his handsome face fluctuating between stark white and flush red.

Ginny relaxed and didn't smack him, but she didn't look thrilled either. "Try again," She ordered, growing rather impatient.

"Right," The man agreed, blush rising anew, "Do you believe in love at first sight?"

"No," Ginny replied, clearly cynical about the very idea.

The shepherd grinned, offering, "So should I walk by again?"

The question was met with an inelegant snort.

Starting to get just a bit discouraged, Casy gave it one more shot, looking up from the floor and meeting Ginny's blue gaze. "Do you have a map?" He asked, not breaking the contact.

"No," She answered. After being stared at expectantly for a few moments, she sighed heavily and inquired, "Why?"

"Because," Casy replied, smiling sweetly as he reached up to brush his knuckles along Ginny's pale jaw, "I just keep getting lost in your eyes."

"This was a ruttin' dumb idea," The brunette declared, hopping abruptly down from he counter.

"I'm trying to help!" Casy defended, grabbing her by the arm before she could flee. "Ginny," He said, "I meant what I said about liking you. I barely know you and even I can see how lost you are... I want to be there for you, as a friend or anything else you may need."

Ginny stayed quiet, unsure how to answer, unsure what she wanted or needed from the shepherd. He just stared for a long few moments, standing in her tiny kitchen/living room/bedroom and staring blankly. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something else but seemed the think better of it.

"Would you like something to drink?" The shepherd finally asked.

"Hell yes," Ginny answered heartily, going straight to the large jug of wine her mama sent for New Year's.

"That wasn't quite what I had in mind..." Casy muttered, reluctantly accepting a large glass of the dark violet liquid. After eyeing it skeptically for a few moments, watching Ginny pound back nearly half of hers in just one gulp, the shepherd took a tiny, delicate sip.

He choked violently, coughing and spluttering, his eyes watering. "What _is_ this?" He finally managed to gasp, holding the drink at arms length, like it was going to attack him at any moment and pour itself down his throat.

"My mama's hooch," Ginny replied, draining the rest of her glass and taking Casy's away from him, "It's homemade... you don't like it?"

"No, no," The shepherd coughed, voice strained, "It's... good. I just... don't drink a lot... or at all..."

Ginny immediately felt horrible. "Hell," She swore, "I didn't even think 'a that. You're sposta abstain, right?"

Casy nodded, wiping his eyes and still coughing.

"Why didn't you just ruttin' say so?" The young woman demanded angrily, "I got enough on my mind as it is without bein' the one temptin' you away from your righteous path or seventy-two virgins or whatever the hell else you're in this for!"

The shepherd looked vaguely affronted. "We're being friends," He reminded his companion, "Friends drink together. I figured it was for the greater good."

"Don't be somethin' you ain't for my sake!" Ginny raged. Despite the fact that she was a good foot and a half shorter than the muscular blonde man, she got right in his face and yelled, "I don't want that! Everybody 'round here is phony and I just can't take anymore of it! If you don't drink, don't drink! Be who you are and tell me the gorram truth! All the time, no matter what!! I'm a big girl and I can handle it!"

"Fine," Casy replied, leaning in to meet the young woman's furious glare. He moved forward until she was pinned against the kitchen counter, the hard surface digging into her slender back as he put a hand on either side of her. "I think you're depressed," The shepherd observed flatly.

Before Ginny could stop herself, a response jumped out of her big mouth. "No shit," She spat.

His expression unchanged, Casy pressed, "Why?"

"I hate this place," Ginny coldly answered, "I hate that none a' my neighbors care to know me and that everybody at my work talks about me behind my back. I hate that the Republic is shapin' up to be just another Alliance and that totalitarianism and corruption are turnin' out to be inevitable. I hate that, at any one time durin' the day, there are at least a dozen doctors sittin' around doin' nothin' while children on the rim are still dyin' a' chickenpox, and the flu, and burst appendixes. I hate that honest people _still_ get hurt and ripped off dealin' pirates just tryin' to get vaccines and medicine and foodstuffs because there ain't no other way, because those who have power ain't _never _gonna care 'bout those who don't. I hate that I can't decide whether to be furious at God or completely give up the idea that any such bein' exists."

She glared fiercely at the man hovering over her, staring straight into his kind almond eyes and handsome face, and added, "Most a' all, I hate that I can't do a damn thing to change any of it."

"Why not?" Casy immediately questioned, getting closer, his fingertips just barely skimming the thin towel wrapped around Ginny's thin body.

"I just..." The young woman answered, voice breathy and failing as she became suddenly entranced by the shepherd's shapely lips, "I just can't. I'm one person against the whole verse, against hundreds 'a years 'a society and tradition, against evil and greed and apathy and bureaucracy-"

"How can you hope to do _anything _if all you ever do is _nothing_?" Casy cut her off, gaze challenging and fierce, "How can you know changing the world is impossible if you don't even _try_?"

Ginny swallowed heavily, wanting to scream, or to run.

"More importantly," The shepherd continued very somberly, "How can you hope to find faith in the world or in God if you don't even have faith in yourself?"

For a long few moments, the dark-haired twenty-five-year-old let the words sink in, tried to think of an answer. The most intelligent thing she could force out of her suddenly dry mouth were the words, "Chicken's ready."

And so it was. Casy lingered a few seconds before finally moving away from the young woman in the towel and pulling their dinner out of the oven. Ginny dressed in a sensible t-shirt and pair of jeans and then broke out a small collapsible table and two chairs. She set them up in the center of her small apartment and put out dishes and silverware. The shepherd came just at the right moment with two heaping plates of food and the two young people sat down to their meal.

The conversation stayed away from Ginny's unhappiness, from politics and other subjects that generally had a potential to become volatile. And the dinner was a success. Ginny was surprised at just how easily she found herself liking the shepherd. He was quirky, funny and awkward, and... sweet... naïve... it had been a long time since she'd met anyone so... nice.

He left later that evening with the promise that he would be back the next day. Since the hospital didn't want Ginny to work for the rest of the week, he said that he would to take her out to do something fun.

He made it very clear that the outing would be a date.

Ginny was kind of... excited.

The circus was in town so they went there. Ginny laughed her head off when she saw that's where he'd brought her. She hadn't been to a circus since she was around ten but let herself be open to the experience and had to admit that it was entertaining. She and the shepherd stuffed themselves with popcorn and ice planets and cotton candy and yelled delightedly as acrobats and clowns and exotic animals paraded through the ring.

Afterwards, Ginny's spirits were inordinately high. She was sure she smelled like an elephant but didn't care. She was having so much fun! She'd almost forgotten how much fun it was to have a friend, to go on a date, even!

"Did you _see_ that contortionist?" Casy ranted, a huge grin on his handsome face, his short ponytail nearly obliterated and his mousey hair sticking out every which way, "He got himself completely into that tiny box without even breaking a sweat!"

"He sure was bendy," Ginny laughed, licking pink sugar off her fingers as she scanned the dusty fairground. At the far end, just behind the tents, she could see a row of cruiser shuttles that she'd failed to notice when they walked in through the front gate. "Huh," The young woman observed, gravitating towards the crafts with Casy absentmindedly following, continuing to babble endlessly.

When the shepherd finally caught on to where they were going, Ginny had already jumped the small fence separating the vessels from unauthorized personnel. "Um," He gaped, pressing his handsome face against the chain link and seeming reluctant to follow, "I think we're supposed to stay... over _here_."

"I just wanna ask 'em about the ships," Ginny replied, grinning teasingly over her shoulder, "I think they're shuttles off a bigger cruiser that must be in orbit right now... you don't gotta come if you don't wanna."

The young woman just saw him frowning and beginning to climb after her before she turned a corner and ran straight into a rather large man... or woman... bearded lady?

"Can't you read?" (S)He snarled in a thick Slavic accent, "Theez area eez off limits!!"

"Sorry," Ginny apologized vaguely aware of the shepherd rushing to her side, "I just wanted to ask about the ships. They're cruiser shuttles, right? Former Alliance?"

"Yes," (S)He grunted, lips invisible behind a thick, dark beard as she slapped a hand against one of the hulls, "Our cruiser, _Gilly_,she eez in orbit now. The circus owner, he bought her from junkyard on Verbena who has many more floating around the planet. There vas factory there, had contract making military ships but now nobody wants. "

Ginny stared for a moment, finally responding, "Huh."

Throughout the remainder of the week, she couldn't get rid of the idea that had suddenly struck her standing there at the circus. She waved Rosie about it, taking to her dreamy pregnant sister over the cortex about the possibility of maybe getting her own hospital cruiser to tour through the rim with. Rosie thought it was a shiny idea and gave her full support. She smiled, cryptically remarking, "I always knew you were going to do something great for the verse. Find your faith, _mei-mei_, and make us all proud."

Ginny kept on thinking. It got to the point where she actually contacted the scrap yard on Verbena and got a ballpark price for the junked out cruisers. Her entire life's savings and all that was left of the inheritance she got from her grandparents was just short of covering the cost, never mind what it would take to get the vessel running, stock it with personnel and medical supplies, keep her in the air...

The following Monday, Ginny was allowed to return to work. She felt much better, if a little down about her master plan falling through so quickly. She had breakfast with Casy in the hospital cafeteria--he nagged her incessantly about her choice of chocolate pudding as a meal--and then dove back into work.

Her first patient that morning was a gentleman by the name of Wilson P. Langston. He was old and rather kindly, a shipping tycoon who was originally from the rim and had amassed ridiculous amounts of money to his name during his substantial lifetime. He came in complaining of shortness of breath, which turned out to be asthma. Ginny treated him and very patiently explained his condition, what medications he would have to take and what things he should avoid.

"Thanks, darlin'," The old man stated, his dark, wrinkled face breaking into a tired grin and his deep brown eyes bright and magnified behind the huge lenses of his glasses, "You been real good to me. And it sure is nice to hear somebody who don't talk all fancified and fruity."

"Don't I know it," Ginny laughed, thoroughly enjoying Langston's company, "I swear, next person I hear use the word _oneself_ is gonna get the business end of a scalpel straight to the _pi gu_."

Laughing uproariously, the old man answered, "Lord, ain't you a hoot? Not that I'm complainin', darlin', but why're you workin' in this stiff factory? You seem like the type who'd be a lot more happy out doin' some good in the great wide verse."

Ginny smiled softly. "I recently been thinkin' along those lines," She said, "Had a pretty grand scheme in mind for how I'd go about it, too, but I don't got the coin that would take."

"Oh ya?" Langston chirped with a haphazard smirk, "Tell me about it."

"Well," The young physician answered, "I was gonna buy a' old Alliance cruiser and fix her up into a hospital ship and tour about the rim. I'd rig the shuttles as individual clinics and dispatch 'em down to the planets. Doctors would treat people and take more serious cases back up to the cruiser. I reckon we could hit just about every rim world at least once a year, maybe even twice or more if I get a fleet built up. Most rim worlds could potentially be within range a' proper medical facilities at all times within five years."

"That's the most sensible thing I've heard in ages," Langston beamed, "What's stoppin' you?"

"Even buyin' a cruiser from a scrap yard turns out to be outside my budget," She sadly explained, "And, besides, I don't know how many doctors I could actually convince to tag along. Even if I could get the ship and the money to set her up, it might end up bein' just me aboard."

The old man stood, straightening his smart bowtie and smoothing down the shocking white hair on the top of his dark head. He grinned at Ginny, offering her a card and stating, "I think I could pro'ly help. You come by and see me anytime, darlin', and we'll try n' get you in the sky."

Ginny gaped. "You serious?" She demanded, suddenly skeptical.

"Serious as sittin' on a hedgehog," Langston responded, flashing a winning smile.

She arranged a meeting the following day, taking a long lunch and a long tram ride downtown. Langston's office building was huge, stately and impressive and slightly intimidating.

But the man met her in the lobby, grinning happily as he brushed past his herd of trailing yes men. He ushered her into his grand office, serving drinks and food and questioning the girl endlessly about anything and everything, her life, her family, her hopes, her plans, her favorite color. He was endlessly impressed by the tales of her infamous family and all the adventures she'd taken part of during her wild childhood.

In the end, Langston smiled and offered to buy her a cruiser, to have his company match all funds she could raise for the project.

Needless to say, Ginny was speechless but accepted without pause. She didn't have to think about the idea anymore because she knew in her heart it was what she had to do if she ever wanted to be happy again.

A lawyer came in and they drew up the papers, Langston shook Ginny's hand and then Ginny returned to finish her shift at the hospital. Afterwards, Casy came over to her apartment with dinner again; it was beginning to become a habit of his.

Picking at her stir-fry, Ginny casually remarked, "Wilson Langston's gonna buy me a spaceship."

Casy choked slightly. After just staring for a moment, he responded, "Um... that's... nice?"

"Sure as hell it is," The brunette stated, looking up out of her bowl to send a tentative smirk across at her companion, "Any interest in helpin' me tour a hospital cruiser through the rim?"

The shepherd beamed, laying a gentle hand on top of Ginny's as he warmly answered, "I would be honored."

So they got to work.

They found a few more corporate sponsors, big companies with good reputations and deep pocketbooks and no qualms about charitable donations. Ginny refused a few, such as Fruity Oaty Bar--even though no one else really understood why. But Langston was helping spread the word and people were getting in line to donate to the cause. She knew she'd scored big when medical supply companies started volunteering to donate full sets of equipment.

Ginny also sent a lot of letters out to hospitals all over the core and recruited a surprising number of doctors who were willing to sign on for a year or more of service to the project. After she had the hundredth person confirmed, Ginny had to admit that she had vastly underestimated the interest the core-born physicians would have. Some were generally trying to do some good in the verse; others were just real eager to get out where they wouldn't be so crowded in their practice of medicine. Ginny was plenty fine with either because she was going to have a cruiser that needed to be manned.

Next, of course, they had to call in the best mechanics in the verse. Ginny hired her mama and sisters to consult on which cruiser would be best to buy, to do all necessary repairs, and she also hired _Serenity_ and _Rapture_ to do part and supply runs during the initial phases and other odd jobs afterwards. Because of their falling out with the Republic over the sub-par treatment Davey received, neither crew wanted to stay employed with the Supply Corps any longer. It wasn't doing very much good anymore anyways, not with the cutbacks the Parliament had been handing down for the last few years. The promises were falling through and things were turning back to what they'd been under Alliance rule, to neglect and having to engage in piracy just to get by.

With a blank check and one helluva a hug from Langston, Ginny took off from work--she found she was more and more willing to do that--and _Serenity_ picked her and Casy up from Ariel. Sam was aboard, along with Angie and Jay and their gaggle of sweet little girls, and Burne, and Anaya. Jessie was still aboard _Rapture_ with Davey, as well as Louisa, Mac, and Ginny's mama. It had been about a month since Davey's surgery and he was mending fine. He'd been on Haven with the family and reports said that he was having a great time with J.J. and Leyne to keep him company. The eighteen-year-old twins were going to be sad to see him go.

But Ginny was so happy to see her family. She was damn near tackled to the floor when her flood of nieces and nephews came running out of _Serenity's_ bay. Burne was so big she hardly recognized him, handsome and strapping and, at twelve, right on the cusp of becoming a teenager. He sure did take after his daddy, happy and bright and just a bit funny looking with his mop of blonde curls and strong, square jaw. He had his mama's eyes though, those soft baby blues she got from her daddy.

Anaya had grown just as much, an impish, five-year-old pixie with gold doll ringlets and mischievous emerald eyes. She was bratty and had no filter between her brain and her mouth, but she was loved by all. She had her unhappy orange tabby cat, Taeng, stuffed beneath one arm and was tugging on Ginny's pant leg with the other, shouting about presents.

Serra was just three, with her unruly chocolate brown curls tied back in an angelic pink bow and her little body in a sweet pink sundress. Her tiny face was flecked lightly with freckles and her whisky brown eyes shined as she dutifully led her little sisters by the hand, two-year-old Clover on the right and one-year-old Zinnia on the left. Both girls had their mother's fine strawberry blonde locks and their daddy's dark, laughing eyes.

In the midst of the crowd of excited kids, Ginny looked over just in time to see her big sister walk down the ramp carrying the niece she hadn't yet met. Jonquil--already called Jonny by everyone but Jay, who was holding out some hope of sticking his daughter forever with the quirky name--was bitty as could be, a sweet, cooing infant with blue eyes and just a wisp of dark fuzz on the top of her head. She wasn't quite five months old.

Angie glowed, reminding her sister somewhat of a Madonna.

But Ginny didn't have too much time to say hey to her sister because in the next moment, Jay came bounding down the ramp like the overexcited puppy that he was. Being tortured by the Niska's a few years back hadn't slowed him down a bit. In fact, all the sitting around and waiting for his broken bones and various gashes to heal just seemed to make him even crazier than he was to begin with. He was thirty-two, his face already starting to line and scarred heavily on his left cheek, but anyone watching the way the man moved would not have guessed him to be a day over twelve.

"GINNY!!" He shouted, running to join the gaggle of children, tackling his sister straight to the ground. Sitting on her stomach, the rather large child grinned and then slobbered kisses all over the young woman's face. "I missed you, little one!!" Jay laughed, "You just gotta visit more often!! You work too dang hard!! And now you're gettin' a cruiser 'a your very own? It's like you're growin' up on me!"

"Missed you, too, Jay," The brunette answered, grabbing her brother into a tight hug and wrestling with him in the dirt. She smiled fondly at her nieces and remarked, "But I see you been plenty busy in my absence."

With a cocky wink and grin, Jay responded, "Well, I had to do _somethin'_ to pass all that time out in the black. And you weren't exactly there to engage me in a heated game 'a tall card, now were ya?"

"Aw, Jay, you get off her now!" Angie scolded, not really doing a very good job because she couldn't get the smile off her pretty face, "That ain't no proper way to greet nobody and you didn't let Ginny introduce her friend!"

"Oh, where _are _my manners," He laughed, shaking the dust out of his amber curls and onto Ginny's face, making his surrogate sister squeal and splutter as he jumped off of her. Offering his hand out to the bemused shepherd, Jay chirped, "James Q. Reynolds, my man. Pleasure to have you comin' aboard."

"Casy Yonah," The preacher said, shaking hands and smiling earnestly, "It's very nice to finally meet you. Ginny's told me so much-"

"All lies, I'm sure," Jay cackled, giving Casy a hearty, somewhat painful slap on the back as he picked up a suitcase and ushered the shepherd inside the ship, "Come on in, Case. Can I call you Case? Shiny! I'll give you a tour and introduce you to Sammy. That is, if we can find him. He's in a bit of sulk right now 'cuz he got in another fight with his woman. She's a crazy one. You pro'ly won't meet her since she left him again. She usually don't come back for a month or two every time..."

The conversation tapered off as Jay took Casy inside, filling him in on the drama that was Sam's relationship with the outlaw woman known as Junior. It was a bit of an explosive affair, but the two really did love each other. Junior's occasional crime and shady business dealing kept her rather busy and that, plus her fugitive status and the fact that she was one of the only people in the verse just as if not more stubborn and prideful than Solomon Reynolds, tended to cause some problems. She was known to pop on and off of _Serenity_ on a regular basis, miraculously meeting up with them at random ports and disembarking at others. As much as she wanted to, as much as Sam wanted her to, the woman didn't yet seem to have the courage to commit to staying very long. She didn't quite grasp what it meant to have a home where you were always always always welcome. After her hand in saving Jay from the Niska's, Junior had earned that home with the _Serenity_ clan. She'd confessed to Sam that it was what she'd always wanted but she was still wary of having it snatched away someday.

Ginny got up from the ground, laughing and dusting herself off as the nieces and nephews continued to hang off her.

"Did you bring us presents?" Anaya chirped excitedly, nearly strangling her poor mewling cat. The girl had an endless, completely free smile.

"'Course I did!" Ginny answered, helping Burne lug the bags in as she lead them inside the ship, "What kinda auntie would I be if I didn't bring presents?"

"YAY!!" All the little girls cheered, breaking into a round of carefree giggling and running about, tugging poor Burne into their game.

Ginny shot him a pitying smile, asking, "Bet you can't wait for Davey to get back and rescue you from all the girls, huh?"

"You have _no_ idea," The almost-teen answered, blue eyes fearful as Naya began to loudly suggest a game of dress up.

The voyage out to Verbena was relatively uneventful. Sam moped about Junior; Jay acted crazy and ran around like a fool for the amusement of himself, his daughters, his niece, and his nephew; Angie continued to be the perfect mother.

Ginny fell easily back into the family she knew and loved and was real impressed with Casy for fitting right in. Whether it was trying to counsel Sam about his relationship, or engaging Jay in an energetic game of hoopball, or complimenting Angie's cooking, or telling the kids fantastical stories, Casy always seemed to be right where he should be, right where he would be doing the most good and having the most fun. Ginny sort of envied him for that skill but, as the days passed, she found herself growing more and more fond of the crazy shepherd.

_Serenity_ met up with _Rapture_ in Verbena's orbit, the self-proclaimed sister ships docking and emptying into one another. Davey immediately and proudly flashed his long scar to Burne, proclaiming how tough he'd been to the surrogate big brother he would always idol. Burne was impressed but joked that it wasn't quite as cool as the scar he had on his own forehead, the one from the stray bullet that had grazed him all those years ago on Haven.

Jessie came running up to Ginny to tearfully welcome her baby sister home. Louisa did the same, though somewhat more reserved. Mac seized Ginny into a giant bear hug and proclaimed undying love. Ginny's mama, sixty, wrinkled and gray-haired, only a little bit slower and nowhere near any less amazingly sunny as she was when she was young, hugged Ginny fiercely, and smiled, and laughed.

Casy was introduced all around. He immediately hit it off with everybody.

And then it was time to go cruiser shopping.

"That one looks nice," Ginny's mama stated, leaning over the console to point out the front window at a mass of steel that was drifting in its aimless orbit around the planet, "She's a 20-C79 Gaur class. Maybe a might on the small side for your operation, but they're sposta run pretty smooth once you get out all the unnecessary engine parts."

"Auntie Kaylee," Jay whined desperately, squirming to maintain his view as he navigated the precarious field of ships, "You gotta stop gettin' in the way a' the windshield! I can't see and we're gonna end up splattered on the Gaur 'fore Ginny can buy it!"

The old woman took a step back, fondly mussing up her son-in-law's hair and brushing a kiss across his forehead as she apologized, "Sorry, sweetie. I'm just so excited! It ain't everyday I get to help pick out a cruiser! And work on her, too!"

"Mama," Ginny whined, "Daddy made me promise to keep you from doin' anything heavy. You got arthritis, 'member?"

Kaylee tutted her daughter, answering, "You don't worry 'bout me, Ginger-baby. I been workin' on ships all my life and I don't intend to stop just yet."

"I don't think the Gaur is any good," Burne dryly remarked, he and Louisa intensely focused on the view out the window; the mother and son were quite the spaceship entrepreneurs, both possessing near-encyclopedic knowledge of just about anything and everything that had ever left atmo anywhere in the verse, "She's barley half-way finished. The labor and parts you'd have to put in would be more than she's worth."

"Aw, shucks," Kaylee pouted, looking so very young despite her wrinkles and gray hair.

"What about that one?" Casy cut in, bouncing baby Jonny in his arms as Angie hovered.

"The Titan?" Angie replied, deftly straightening her daughter's thin, fuzzy hair, "They're sposta be a'right. I read a brochure sayin' that they're one a' the biggest cruisers ever made and that they're great for settlements."

"You can't trust the brochures a lick," Louisa announced skeptically, "I had a friend who infiltrated one durin' the war and he said it was a horrible ride. It couldn't turn good even at real low speeds and was always jerkin' about. Made it kinda hazardous to walk and sleep anywhere onboard."

"That's pro'ly not a good idea for a ship you're gonna be doin' surgeries on," Sam remarked, sprawled bonelessly in the co-pilot chair with his blue eyes narrowed on the window.

"True," Ginny agreed, nodding and carefully watching the crafts floating by, "Didn't we already pass these ones? Jay, you backtrackin' or was that all of 'em?"

The lanky pilot checked his instruments, momentarily announcing, "I've gone a full orbit so that must be all of 'em. We can try a new path, see if there are anymore hidin' out there."

"I like that one!!" Anaya yelled, seated on her daddy's massive shoulders and nearly pitching herself off as she pointed wildly at a looming shape that was emerging from behind one of the other vessels, "Bonehead, what's it called?"

Burne was just starting to get a little embarrassed of his baby sister's favorite nickname for him. But, however red he turned when she used it, he could not bring himself to tell the girl to stop. "That's a 20-C89 Manta, _mei-mei_," He answered, "They're good, right, Mama?"

"I've heard so," Lou said, smiling proudly as she pulled her son into a one-armed hug, "The grav stabilizin' technology and design are pretty unique and sposta work real well. For the size, she's downright graceful. I'm surprised no one's snapped her up already."

A moment of silence came over the bridge as the entire assembled crew watched the craft float by. Shaped just like a giant fighter kite, the dark structure was massive. Like all cruisers, it was several dozen stories high and over two miles wide. Still, she seemed... lighter than all the rest, more fluid in her movements despite the fact that she was only drifting in an aimless orbit.

"Let's check her out," Ginny suggested, grinning and eager as she led the charge down to the EVA suits. She, as well as Louisa, Jessie, Angie, her mama, and--after a bit of convincing--a fearful Casy all suited up for the spacewalk and subsequent inspection. Despite the shepherd's numerous panic attacks, the group painstakingly went over just about every inch of the cruiser's engine and interior and exterior and its remaining shuttles. The craft was in a bit of disrepair but nothing major. Ginny floated through the cooridors and could just see them filled with doctors who gave a damn, with patients who suddenly had half a chance.

They got back aboard, took Casy to lie down for awhile, attached Jonny back to Angie's boob, and then set off for Verbena to buy Ginny's new cruiser.

After about two hours of negotiating, the young woman got the price down from five million credits to two. She did so by promising the rather kindly junkyard owner that they would buy all the parts they could from him and that he would get a mention as one of the sponsors of her organization.

Everything was set. _Serenity_ stayed with the cruiser, Ginny's mama and sisters single-handedly getting down to making it run once again as the Firefly shuttled needed parts between dirt and orbit. Louisa made a quick round trip in _Rapture_ in order to take Ginny and Casy back to Ariel before she headed out to pick up a list of machinery the others hadn't been able to find in the Verbena junkyard.

Ginny gave her notice at the hospital and got to fundraising as a fulltime job. She raised hundreds of millions in the space of a few weeks, more than enough to start out and with promises of more to come as her hospital continued to run.

Shortly after the point when Ginny actually had to start turning away qualified doctors interested in the project because there just wasn't anymore living space aboard the cruiser, Rosie went into labor. With Casy hot on her heels, the brunette rushed to Sihnon and, about forty-eight hours later, delivered her beautiful dark-haired nephew. Rosie's husband Ekain--a talented painter who was just as dreamy and sensitive as his wife--cried when Ginny gave him his son to hold for the first time.

Rosie and Ekain named their son Lore. Lore Benat Harper-Tam. He had Rosie's sparkly brown eyes.

Watching the happy couple cry tears of happiness of the product of their love, Ginny's hand instinctively reached for Casy's. He was standing right beside her, ready to take it.

"Faith," Ginny whispered, feeling her own blue eyes pricking insistently as her vision blurred.

Casy's grip tightened around hers, the shepherd asking, "What?"

"Faith," Ginny repeated, turning to look at him, to smile, "That's what I'm callin' the hospital."

The shepherd returned a warm smile, bending to press a chaste kiss to Ginny's forehead before answering, "Your gift to the verse."

With an enigmatic smile, the young woman declared, "Now that I found it again, it don't seem right not to share."

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Translations -

pi gu - butt

ta made niao - goddamned

jie-jie - older sister

mei-mei - younger sister

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Author's notes -

Golyat - a name meaning "exile." The original Hebrew form of the name Goliath.

IRV - Interstellar Republic Vessel

Xi Wangmu - Queen Mother of the West; in Chinese Mythology, she is the ruler of the western paradise and the goddess of immortality. She possesses a peach tree which, every 3,000 years, produces a peach that grants eternal life.

Gilly - a truck or wagon, especially one used to transport the equipment of a circus or carnival.

Taeng - Thai name meaning "melon."

Gaur - a large, dark-coated ox of South and Southeast Asia. It is the largest of all wild cattles.

Titan - in Greek mythology, a race of powerful, pre-Olympian deities.

Manta - of a species of cartilaginous fish called rays, Mantas are the largest. The largest known specimen was 7.6 meters (25 feet) across its pectoral fins (or "wings") and weighted 3,000 kg. (6,600 lbs.) They are also known as Devil Rays because of a pair of distinctive "horn" projections on either side of their heads. When they swim, it looks like they are flying.

Faith - confident belief in the truth, value, or trustworthiness of a person or thing; belief that does not rest on material proof or evidence; belief in God or in the doctrines or teachings or religion; belief in anything, as a code of ethics, standards or merit, etc; loyalty to a person or thing; a set of principles or beliefs.


End file.
